A Clown

SO I decided to take a stroll around, my next client was due in in about 30 minutes – this very beautiful redhead who tap danced and sang and could juggle, stuff like that, very sexy and the guys in the clubs couldn’t get enough of her as she sang her song and shook her tuches – and I didn’t want her complaining about the smoke, so I opened the window and went out for a cigar. I earned a break, I had spent more than 20 minutes convincing a mad slasher movie producer to give one of my clients another role in another movie he was going to make. You’ll recognize her if you see her. She gets to be half naked for sex and then gets to scream. A lot.

I stopped from block to block to briefly watch the people trying to make a living at the bottom of the show business ladder, an older black fellow who played the clarinet while a toy monkey clapped together a pair of little cymbals, the guy once swore to me that he used to play in the Cab Ellington band; and a guy in white face who did some juggling and went through the usual motions of walking against the wind and sniffing an invisible flower – no thanks, I said, I’m allergic, and he put on a sad face and patted me on the shoulder, and he made fun of a few people who walked by with an odd way of walking... and of course the blind woman, if she was blind, I don’t know, who sang the same few songs about Jesus while holding out the tin cup.

And of course the usual early afternoon line of hookers looking to make their money. A redhead in jeans and a t-shirt with a couple of chess knights on it smiled at me at me as I walked into Smith’s for a shot of vodka – dumb idea really, but I ran out and the local liquor store had closed down due to a fire in the store room or something. 

What a waste – a shot in the bar cost more than buying a shot bottle at the liquor store – and he’d give me a discount if I bought a dozen at a time, which I did – and of course it cost a lot less if you bought a whole bottle, but with my clients, some of them anyway, what am I supposed to do, pass them the bottle and say ‘help yourself’? It’s a better deal to go “so we have a deal, here, have a shot’ and you pass them a shot bottle.

Anyway, it was still a nice change of scenery to sit in a bar for a few minutes and listen to the others complain about things between drinks. I looked at my watch, grabbed a few pretzels and took my leave. The redhead smiled at me again; I’ve seen her around at this corner for a while now. So I smile back and say “nice weather lately” and she says “some rain would be nice.” Strange comment, most of the hookers hate the rain.

So I get back to my office and start to think about what I need to do next, knock knock, the door opens and my prettiest redhead clients sticks her head through the opened door and say, “well, do you still have some time to talk?”

And I said, “for you, of course, come sit down." I pulled a small bag of mixed nuts from a drawer in my desk, I know she likes them.  She picked out a few cashews and politely slapped them in her mouth and then pulled a large sheet of paper from her bag.

“Ok, here is my calendar for the summer, I’m pretty much booked on the weekends until Labor Day, “she said, “and I have a few club dates. How about you find me some other work to fill in the blanks?”

Smart girl. Really good-looking, too. Guys in the clubs always fall for her, she does a really sexy song and dance routine.

“You know, “ I said, “I’m really trying to find you some work in a film or two, they keep making musicals and it pays a lot more than you make in the Catskills. I know you can do it.”

She cut me off by smacking her hand on the desk. “Look, that would be swell, but right now I need some more club dates to fill in my calendar. Let’s look for a film job after the hotels close, ok?”

I got up. “Come, “ I said, “let’s take a walk around, you like Boston cream pie? I know a place where we can have pie and coffee and talk, ok?”

She made a face, cocked her mouth to one side for a moment, then got up and said “Ok, I like that kind of stuff.” She put her calendar back in her bag and as we waited for the elevator, she said, “People sometimes see how I eat and they ask me how I keep my figure and I ask them if they have any idea how many hours a day I practice all my routines and steps on a dance floor. People really are dumb sometimes.”

So we were walking to Lenny’s, “Authentic Jewish Deli” the old sign over the store read in fading letters, and we stopped for a few minutes to watch a tall young guy in clown makeup as he juggled some tennis balls. “He’s good, “she said, “I can juggle but not like he’s doing… hey, “ she said to the guy in the clown face and he gave her an odd friendly smile. “Can you do that with knives?”

And he gave her a tired smile and said” tennis balls, golf balls, pool table balls… apples, lemons, grapefruit... cantaloupe if they’re not too heavy... big knives, small knives, flashlights, torches... street flares when I can get them but you gotta be really careful. Three or four at a time, clockwise, counter-clockwise , figure eights...”

And she said, “take a break, we’ll buy you a coffee.” What do you mean we, I thought, but I didn’t mind, he might make interesting company. He finished off, one ball in one pocket, another ball in another pocket... I don’t know why she wanted to bring him along with us but he seemed grateful for the chance to take a break.  He picked up the old hat from the sidewalk, he had a couple of dollars change in it, then he pulled a pocket watch from his oversized pants, the kind of watch you can buy for about four dollars.

“Geez, later than I thought. Thanks for the invite.”

Lenny, or whatever the owner’s name was, gave me a dirty look for coming in with a guy in clown makeup. Tissia stopped long enough to ask, “you have Boston cream pie today? Yeah? What else?” and he pointed to a display case. “Oh, that looks good,we’ll have three and coffee.”

“Three BCs and three coffees, got it, “ he said with his usual grouchy air.

The clown looked the place over before we took a booth, and he finally said, “real old fashioned place. Never been in here. Got a nice old air to it. Used to be a place like this where I grew up in Brooklyn. Grubby little place but the best pastrami and fries anywhere. When the owner died half the neighborhood turned out for the funeral.”

Lenny brought over the order and the as the clown took one plate for himself, he said, “thank you, sir.” I almost thought I saw Lenny almost smile, but he did say, “you’re welcome.”

Red took a taste and after a moment she nudged me. “This is really good, thanks for bringing me here.” The clown also took a forkful of the pie and after a moment agreed with her. He took a sip of coffee after mixing in some milk. “You know, I’m really glad you asked me along. I needed a break, I have a blister on my foot, but, you know, I gotta make a living.”

Good Boston cream pie is a good excuse for not talking for a while.

“You do anything besides juggling? “ I eventually asked, and he said, “play the guitar a little, I can sing but I don’t have a good voice, ok for doing funny songs at kids parties, I can do a cartwheel or handstand and only fall down about half the times. Kids think that’s funny, too.”

Red laughed. “Can you wait tables? You’d probably make the same money and you wouldn’t be on the street all day.”

“Brother has a place on Long Island, work there sometimes, better than being outside when the weather is really bad, helps pay the bills but I don’t like being polite to drunks."

“Me, neither,” she said. “Clubs are full of drunks, but I don’t care if they just hoot and holler at me. Watching me tap dancing in a leotard that’s half a size too small keeps them in love and the bouncer and bartender keep them in line.”

I noticed that Lenny kept giving me an occasional dirty look for bring such a guy into his respectable place. I sometimes think the roaches wash their hands when they go home at night.

“Ever try the Catskills? They have all kinds of people performing there.” Clown guy kind of let his head drop. “Tried it one summer a couple of times.” He dug the fork into the pie again. He looked thoughtful for a brief moment, then looked over his shoulder and called to Lenny, “Pie is really good. Make it or buy it?”

Lenny looked slightly less displeased for a moment. “The wife bakes a couple times a week. “ 

“Really really good, “ the clown said. “I’ll tell her she got a compliment,” he said. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile and today was no different.

“Yeah, tried it and people were polite and the people in charge would say, “you’re pretty good, but you’re not good enough. Practice some more and we’ll call you next year if we want you back.”

He was right. Lenny had a really good Boston cream pie. Coffee could have been a little stronger though. I wonder if he added some hot water to have enough for three cups.

“Even tried out when the circus had open auditions. You give them an 8 by 10 with your name and phone and address on the back. Thought they kind of liked what I did, few weeks later got the picture back from them. Said if I could pick up a few more tricks, ride a unicycle, stand on a chair and get it to balance on one leg, stuff like that, said I could try again the next time they had auditions.”

Redhead looked at him. “So what did you do?” He just looked at her and shrugged. "Money is tight, lucky if I have a few dollars at the end of the month.” He finished the pie off, added a little more milk to the coffee and drank it. “Don’t know if it’s worth it.”

Redhead gave him an almost angry look. “Don’t be stupid, go to the pawnshops and find a second hand unicycle, if it costs you thirty dollars and you make an extra two dollars a day, you get your money back in a couple of weeks.” She broke a piece of the pie crust off. I thought she was going to throw it at him, but she stuck it in her mouth. “Nice and buttery, too.”

“Suppose I should do that... yeah, tomorrow maybe..., heard it's gonna rain in the afternoon” He got up and put about a dollar in change on the table. “Nice of you to ask me to come along, appreciate it, but sometimes can barely pay the bills. Hope this is enough.”

“No problem,” Tissia said, “keep your change, Mr. Big Shot Agent will pay the tab.” I wanted to smack her. She was one of my favorite female clients, a lot of them were good looking and sexy but were lucky to have an occasional small part in low budget movies (having faked sex just before the mad slasher shows up.) A lovely redhead with a lively personality who I heard once gave a black eye to a club manager when he grabbed her backside, but I still wanted to smack her. Just once.

The clown hesitated, but seemed grateful when I said, “Go take your change, my treat.”

“Thank you,” he said, very kind of you, sir, thanks” As he was walking out, I heard him say goodbye to Lenny, who I could hear say, “Yeah.”

Redhead got up and sat across from me. “Funny fellow,” she said, “wants to be a performer that much. Do you know I have a degree in education? I love performing but I’d sooner spend the day teaching brats to read than do what he does.” She reached over for her plate and scraped off what was left with a fork. “He’s right, this is really good…”

I learned that one of the benefits of having others with you when you’re eating is that you can eat while they talk. I was down to a last bit of the crust of the pie.

“Look,” I said after a last sip of coffee, “you’re lucky, you have a lot more talent than a lot of people who want to do what you do, and you have some really good looks. The city is full of people like him, you can walk up Broadway from Wall Street to Central Park and you’ll see them on pretty much every corner. You don’t know how many clients I dropped because I just couldn’t find them work. Going on stage and pretending to do a sexy dance while you get down to a g string isn’t really a talent.”

I almost wanted another coffee. “Remember, not everyone has the talent to remember how to say things like ‘and do you want it rare, medium or well done?’”

Redhead almost laughed. “You’re such a jerk, but in a good way. Now, like I said before,” and she pulled the calendar from her bag. “Here’s my calendar from the summer...”

“Lenny,” I almost hollered, “more coffee...”