Circus Clowns

gene candeloro
2 min readAug 16, 2019

It was a bitch of a hot day and showing houses in this heat was not making it any less bitchy. Yet another 90+ day!

My buddy, Dale, called me.

Dale: “Beers?”

Me: “Definitely!”

We met at our favorite watering hole downtown.

He bitched about his grueling, thankless work as a copywriter at a radio station. He was really smart and, somewhat, socially awkward. Good guy, though.

We got a pitcher of our local brew and talked about life.

Two sweet young lovelies walked by. I invited them, almost as a reaction. “Join us, ladies?”

They looked us over — a curious, handsome, sexy guy and a long hair that definitely had possibilities.

They both worked at the local enormous insurance company in downtown. Dale and I would rather slit our wrists before being trapped in there all day.

They asked, “What you guys do?” Dale let me handle it.

“Circus clowns.” And I left it at that.

I could see the bewilderment on their faces. Then, the cute redhead said, “No. Really?”

I said, “Yeah, we are just passing through with the circus.”

“Dale is actually the only white circus clown that has ever been invited to work



gene candeloro

Writer, photog., wanderer. Hopeful romantic. Lover of all things dogs. I write about ordinary people. Follow my Relentless Pursuit. Medium Noteworthy Writer.