If the Suit Fits

At first I put it on as a defense mechanism. It fit awkwardly in the beginning, but I noticed when I wore it people stopped talking, moreover they paid attention.

                Yes, I remember, it all started with that rubber nose, used at first to protect me from bullies. I couldn’t have known it was a gateway drug, I was too young. Because I wasn’t savvy enough one thing led to another. My guise fell like dominos in a straight and predictable line, but then replaced by something else…

                The colorful and inviting makeup that only led to that familiar white ruffled collar that it might protect my outstretched neck when I was being too outspoken.

                Having by this point abandoned the perception of depth as reliable armor I next foisted upon myself the shirt. Brightly colored in polka dots and patterns, it served to distract and mesmerize.

                From there, it is said that the typical man puts on his pants one leg at a time. I learned this to be untrue for the jokester I was modeling myself after. For when trying to create spectacle the typical will just not do. So when I took on the baggy and comical trousers of the auguste clown, I did so with zest; a running leap into the pants at full speed, adorning both legs at once, and hitting some sort of stride that I wasn’t quite true.

                Then of course came the shoes. Once upon a time they were shiny and new, the bright red of youth, a face whose cheeks were flush with excitement. When I slipped them on my feet they were soothing, taking away the weariness of a thousand hardened paths that had been treaded via a million dogged steps.

                The ensemble was complete some years ago, but that didn’t stop me from adding accessories here and there to take the charade to the next level. A squirting flower was sure to create a smile, a flapping tie so that even among the formal (and the formalities) I could stand out as just this side of ludicrous.

              

               I enjoyed every bit of it, basking in the rewards. The laughs I received, the smiles that were revealed to me. The whole scheme seemed so clever. Until, one day I was sitting by myself, trunk of scattered equipment at my feet. As I pondered my course over the years it dawned on me that in order to become what I now was, I had to give up, at least a part, of what I once had been.

                I stood, trying to remove the soft rubber nose, but it wouldn’t budge. In vain I wiped at my white face, only to see none had come off on my palms.  I wriggled within the shirt and pants, clutched at the tie that might as well have been glued to my chest. Alas, there was no give in them.

                With a sigh I returned to my chair, looking over the strange accoutrements I had made part of my act over the years. I had so marvelously camouflaged myself that what I was hiding in became my element, my nature.

                They all had become part of me, like it or not. I decided the former, because to be true, nobody likes a sad clown. Besides its a tough job, not everyone can do it.