Escalator's End

Happy little me.

Happy little me with makeup.

Happy little me with clown suit.

Happy little clown, me.

Weekend clowning has it joys. Like being able to get more laughs out of people than they get out of you. I've always enjoyed posing as a mannequin and then having people walk up behind me, commenting on how cute I am. But the fun part comes when I whirl around.

I hope they survive their heart attack.

This weekend the fun came out of an escalator.

A DESCENDING escalator.

People would stare at my dad and I, head straight for the escalator and nearly trip. Believe me, I was chock full of suppressed giggles after the days end.
Excuses such as "It looks like it went up", "I'm in a hurry", and "Because I was staring at the clowns" were put forth.
The last one left me flattered.
I did TRY to warn a few, but they just smiled at me, said "Hi Clown!" and continued on absent-mindedly. This one girl was waving and smiling at me as she climbed up a step, that was one rude reality check.

The giggles nearly burst my stomach.

Just smile and wave.

Smile and wave.