The Unexpected

It snowed last night. Which means drivers everywhere today are moving more slowly on the slick roads; cautious drivers would be driving backwards if they went any slower. I was following one such car this afternoon on my way to respite. While several drivers around me were driving at ten km/h under the posted limit--acceptable for the snowy road conditions--this guy was twenty km/h under. Surely we can do a little better than this, I thought. So, in typical Edmontonian fashion, I pulled into the left lane to pass him.

Now, I think it is human habit to glance at the driver of the car that you are passing as you go by. Don't try and tell me you haven't. We seem to have this urge to see who the heck was slowing us down. "Grandpa." "Crazy woman driver." "Punk teenager." "Dude on his cell phone." This afternoon, I was betting on the Grandpa stereotype, given the make of the car. ...I was wrong.

I start gaining on him. I am almost parallel with his vehicle. I'm there. I glance discreetly to the right. And as happens every so often, he glances back at me. No grandpa. No punk. No cell phone.

Clown.

Full on white make-up, goofy painted smile, big hat, and red nose clown.

Suffice it to say, I was caught off-guard. I think I had fully passed him before my brain registered what it had seen. And since my brain didn't quite know how to respond (the normal "I knew it" or "sigh, winter drivers" response didn't apply), laughter came out instead.

Which I suppose is the purpose of a clown.