A CLOWN A DAY...

Every day at 3:45 PM, a clown goes past my office.

I am 100% certain it's a clown. No one else would have the same impeccable timing to be by at exactly the same time everyday, nor could anyone else muster the same bubbly bike-horn honking frenzy as this particular clown.

Perhaps he only speaks in horn-honks. Perhaps it's to alert the neighborhood to his hijinx.

Maybe it's not a tangible, flesh and blood clown like most other clowns (actually- I believe most clowns to be hewn from rotted beef and filled with custard.) This could be a poor, free-floating ghost clown, forever wandering the Irving Park corridor, frantically honking his horn in the hopes of finding eternal, clown-y peace.

Whatever the reason- I've yet to see him in person, which is why most of my co-workers are of the belief that the frenetic bike-horning is actually an ice cream man.

But I refuse to believe it... one of these days, I'll see that clown.

And based on how I feel about clowns, depending on how things go, I just might push him off his unicycle into traffic.

Hard to say, really...