My First Buzz

When I was around five or six years old, my grandparents ran and lived in a hotel in the Spa City. It was always a lot of fun going over there, due to the free ice cream and swimming pool privileges. I also got to ride my big-wheel down the halls ala The Shining (redrum!). Sometimes they would have promotions and on a few occasions, they would ask me to help out. This promotion in particular was circus themed, so I got to be a cute little clown.

It was a beautiful summer Saturday morning and I was getting clowned up. Some fun make-up, a polka-dot gay little suit, and even a big cone-shaped hat. However, there was one important element missing: A red clown nose. I had to have a clown nose, even at six years old I knew just painting my nose red was some bush league bullshit and I wasn't going on without a fucking real clown nose. I believe my exact words were, "I'm not going on without a fucking real clown nose, Grandma!" It was the eleventh hour, no time to acquire a clown nose, so my Grandmother got creative. She cut a hole in a ping pong ball and fastened a small elastic strap. Now she just needed to transform it from white to red, and what better way to do that then with red nail polish.

I remember putting the homemade clown nose on and complaining of the awful, but intriguing smell. Grandma told me that I'd get used to it and to quit being "such a goddamn little titty baby." So I went out to the pool area to wow the crowd with my clown antics. It was about 120 degrees out and I was starting to sweat like a clown whore in clown church. I was also feeling quite light headed, but I was not concerned as I totally loved this new feeling. My mother finally arrived to take some pictures of her cute little clown, when she noticed him trying to hump a balloon animal. I was like, "What up Mom, I'm fuuuuucked up over here! Whooo, fucking balloon animals is awesome! I'm Huffy the Clown, give me a Whippit bitch!" To which my mother dropkicked me about 25 yards. When she came to finish me off, she noticed the ghetto ass clown nose I had on. She ripped the nose off and smelled it and went fucking insane on my grandma. "You're letting my sweet little son of a bitch huff paint? What the fuck, mom!" she screamed in front of all the little clown lovers. I was still pretty high from my huffing experience, so the language might have been different, but the events are as I remember. That was the day I learned that I love being fucked up and there are a multitude of different resources to help me achieve that goal.