muse to a busking clown
What the hell! I hear you shout.
I would have put a picture of him up here however I didn't get one of him so, with my limited literary skills, I have tried to document the event as well as memory serves.
Sounds a little strange I know but it was one of the funniest things that happened to me when I was in New York.
We were queueing up to get on to the ferry that took you over to Liberty Island to see, you guessed it, the large copper, toga wearing, French lady that we all know and who all Americans love, where we watched a few entertainers try to take our money by doing a little dance, or something.
Infact, credit due: there were some good ones. This Rastafarian guys act was pretty impressive: all I will say is he can do things with just his body and a pole that I would've deemed impossible.
But, that's another story and you want to know about the clown right now.
He was a busker. He had a ukulele and was (obviously) dressed as a clown. He walked up and down the queue and asked people a simple question then right there on the spot he sang a minute-long song about their answer.
He asked people questions about their jobs, their cars and he asked both Hannah (who I went there with) and I what our names were and proceeded to sing a song about us.
Now I know it would be great if I could remember what he said but, I was overcome with embarrassment at the time and shoved $10 in his collection to make him bugger off. Shame though, it was funny— more funny than the story makes out— I guess you had to be there.