Crashing a Party

I guess I can cross "crashing a party" off my bucket list....something I had never done until yesterday.


For several days extensive preparations have been going on at my neighbor's home.  Their oldest daughter turned 16, and they planned a very elaborate "Sweet Sixteen" party around a carnival theme.  Various booths appeared in the yard for arcade type games.  In addition to the pool, which is a permanent fixture, there was a dunking booth and a bouncy contraption and fat sumo suits for kids to put on and fight in.  The entire area was decorated with tents and banners and balloons and flags.  They had hired a man who creates balloon animals.  But, they didn't have a clown.


As the afternoon began, cars started to arrive.  Their driveway and the street, on both sides, were soon lined with vehicles from which laughing teenagers emerged.  A few parents were also in attendance and by late afternoon the celebration was in full swing.  But, they didn't have a clown.


I hauled out my red and white stripped stockings and a black hat with a colorful band and a large flower sticking out of the top. Pieces of red yarn hang from under the edge like stringy hair. I purchased the hat at the Ringley Museum gift shop in Florida.  I threatened to wear it home on the plane, but fortunately (for my husband) it collapsed and fit in my suitcase.  The stockings showed nicely below a pair of black crop pants.  My husband had just given me a nearly florescent yellow sweatshirt that he received at a race.  I turned it inside out, so that the logo didn't show and tied a colorful scarf around my neck.  I once had a very, very large pair of red shoes, but I sold them in a rummage sale, so my black mules had to do.  I found a pair of white gloves to wear, but first, I had to make up my face.


I just happen to have some clown makeup.  My blue "eyeshadow" extended up into my forehead completely covering my normal eyebrows.  Red circles on each cheekbone, a very large smiling mouth, and a few freckles made with my eyeliner, and I was good to go.


I had earlier purchased a couple of bags of Tootsie Pops.  I placed them in a colorful little bucket.  


I decided on the direction from which I should approach the party so that no one would likely see me coming until the last minute.  I decided to talk as little as possible, and began circulating and holding out my bucket of lollipops.  It was a riot to see the reactions of the teenagers.  A guy from my former neighborhood showed no signs of recognizing me.  One girl refused the lollipop saying, "I don't take candy from strangers."  


Of course, I wasn't really a stranger....I was just strange.  I certainly got some quizzical looks.  The younger sister of the birthday girl had a look of confusion, as in...."I don't remember a clown being part of the plans."


I was at the party much less time than it took to put the make-up on and take it off.  But then, I didn't really belong there, being 50 years older than most of the guests.  In any event, I can cross "crash a party" off my list of things to do before I kick the bucket.