…Boozee the Clown

I went out on Halloween (well the Saturday night before) and got shit faced as "Boozee" the Clown.

The night started at Lenny Kravits’ house (the rock star, not the dairy farmer) where we indulged in a few pre-party drinks. Next we went to a great bar called Lorenzo’s which has floors made out of bowling alleys, and was decorated with all manor of Halloween spookyness. Unfortunately the place was fairly empty on this night as there was a Halloween ball going on at the nearby community hall. Fortunately that was headed next. So Fanny Hughbanks accountant Ruprect took stock, we were all rounded up by the Sheriff and his Deputy and were shipped off to a hall packed full of crazy people in crazy costumes, half of which were probably scantily dressed young vixens in all manor of saucy outfits, but of course I did not notice. I couldn't even look at them wantingly and I had no desire to talk to any of them, thanks to a recently departed for India, and probably never to be seen again Princess, whom I had met on a night such as this one year before. I did get seriously drunk on this night unfortunately. Kind of the result, of a combination of breaking out in cabin fever and a need to pour alcohol on the open wound in my heart in an attempt cauterize it. It was a seriously fun night though. I ended up crashing out on a couch but then later while searching for a washroom (toilet) I found an empty bed. I took the opportunity, returning to flop into the comfy folds and slept a few more hours. The bed turned out to be Lenny’s 11 year old daughter’s bed. Haha… whoops. Fortunately she was not in it. Later that morning his two little boys woke their mother (whom I had not yet met) by exclaiming "The clown is in [Girls name]'s bed!"

I managed to lose every accessory to my costume over the course of the evening. Unfortunately they were all borrowed. I lost my first red nose when I left the house to go to the bar. It was windy and it just blew off into the darkness! Fortunatley, Lenny had a spare one and he lent it to me. 'Thanks Lenny'. Then at the ball I was a little drunk and kept wandering off by myself. I would come-to standing out in the cold by myself, asking myself what I was doing out there! Oh dear. Every time I did, I seemed to lose another item. Over the course of the evening I lost 2 squeaky devices (including 1 rubber cigar that a dog ran off with), 2 red noses, 1 clown wig (from under my hat!?) and 1 whip, which was a rather unusual yet popular part of my clown costume.

I woke feeling miserable about the items I had lost, having just made friends with the guy who I borrowed them from. So I set about to right my wrongs. I drove a borrowed van back to the various places we had visited in the night in an attempt to pick up the pieces. I did not exactly know where to go, but I just sort of winged it and headed in the general direction of the valley I thought we had been in. I arrived at this general store and asked the lady where Ashton Creek was. Predictably, she replied “Well, this IS Ashton Creek”. It turns out the bar we went to was right next door and this was the location of my first lost item, the rubber cigar. I had a distinct memory of this one as I had been talking with the owner of the bar, Lorenzo, who was dressed as an oil-baron sheik, and all the while squeaking the rubber cigar at his dog. Somehow the dog managed to steal the cigar I had been tormenting him with and took off with it. By the time Lorenzo managed to call him back he had dispensed with it, probably buried under the back porch or something. Anyway I left a note for Lorenzo’s Oil asking him to send the cigar to me if it turned up.

This done the lady in the general store pointed me in the direction of the community hall where the dance had occurred. She had a cunning look in her eye, like she knew exactly who I was. When I arrived most of the clean up had been done and there was a small pile of items left on the doorstep. Amazingly, amongst them was my second red nose which I have no recollection of losing. Some how it had been found by someone outside amongst the autumn leaves and they had actually taken the trouble to pick it up and place it with the other property. I am eternally grateful to this kind individual. My spirits rising I went around to the back of the hall and spied one of the cleaners doing a last round of picking up bits of rubbish from out side. I asked her if she had seen a clown wig and she said “No sorry I only have what is in this bag.” Not to be outdone, I reached into the bag and pulled out my wig which although it was in a state beyond repair, I was still delighted to see again. So I then ventured into the hall to locate the last item, the squeaky horn thing I had under my arm which had annoyed the hell out of so many the previous night. I walked to the pile of lost property and was disappointed to not see it there, sitting on top. I searched through the items at least twice more before giving up. Then I noticed the cleaner dragging away massive bags of trash. I walked up to last one and reached in, not two inches under the surface was the squeaky thing. I could not believe my luck, I had managed to track down all but one of the lost items and all before midday. Needless to say I fully expect to receive a rubber cigar in the mail any day now. (The whip is safely in the hands of a woman who for some reason was without the most crucial part of any Dominatrix costume). It is times like this in my life that I feel truly blessed.

The blessings continued when I limped back to the farm feeling as hung as a horse-radish. As I rounded the bend I saw Herman and Louise both toiling away in the field (a little unusual for a Sunday morning) and I had my first pang of guilt about commandeering the work van without asking. I pulled over and Herman explained that they were expecting a sudden cold snap over night and that temperatures where going to drop to minus 8 degrees. This meant that we would not be able to harvest what we needed to for the next days order, because A; the veges would be frozen solid in the morning and B. because that would ruin all the veges anyway. They asked if I could help out with the emergency sunday harvest. Believe it or not I welcomed the distraction from my increasingly miserable state. So after simply placing my work gear on over what was left of my clown costume, and then adding another layer of jackets and rain gear just for good measure, I set about working in the barely plus 0 temperature. Just when the miserableness of this situation was creeping through the gaps in my clothing, the first few flakes, of the first snow of the season began to fall around me. With that the first 11 pure white swans of the season flew in honking over head. It was a truly magical moment that I would have missed had I been hiding from myself, by myself in my cabin.

So that is how I spent Halloween. There goes six months of disciplined self development, but I guess hell has to be let loose every now and then.