Although Edie and I had already been dating about three weeks at this point, our first theatrical night on the town was to see the 500 Clown rendition of MacBeth. Given the fact that the last time I saw a 500 Clown performance a burly clown shoved my head up his kilt, I wasn't sure whether this would be the best way to impress her. So when the overly vigorous performers chose some other poor schmuck in the audience to abuse and humiliate this time around, I sighed in relief and faked a yawning stretch as I put my arm around her.
As always, the clowns' attempt to eke out something resembling a classic play turned out hilariously. Edie said she kept waiting for the actual tale of MacBeth to emerge, but alas, the rowdy clowns could barely get past the opening scene before all hell broke loose and things crescendoed into chaos. Before long they were arguing amongst themselves as to which should play MacBeth and then began beating each other into bloodied and abused pulp -- Suspender wearing, big-shoed pulp.
Despite the highly questionable cultural value of this deconstruction of MacBeth the evening turned out well and needless to say Edie agreed to go out with me again regardless of my apparent penchant for low-brow shenanigans. As they say: All's well that ends well and therein lies the rub, except perhaps when the rub involves the sweaty thighs of a kilt-wearing clown.
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