Clowning Around

The box hit the desk with a thump, causing the cashier to flinch and press a plump hand to her chest.

"I'd like to return these here shoes," I demanded, "Got'em fer a Chris'miss gift and they just ain't right."

The cashier raised an eyebrow and cracked the lid on the box. Her mouth formed into a round circle of surprise.

"I know. Ain't they jest the most hideous lookin' things ya ever done saw?" I shuddered and nudged the box further away from me.

She cocked her head and held a thumb and index finger an inch apart.

"Naw, they ain't too small. Jest ugly. I couldn't be caught dead wearin' those. All the cowboys at the rodeo would laugh at me. I'd never hear the end of it!"

With a shrug, the cashier held up a white gloved finger and stepped away from the desk.

"Where are ya goin'?" I huffed, "I need to return these dang clown shoes!"

"Oh, Stubby was just filling in for me while I was on lunch break," came a familiar voice from behind. I whirled and felt a blush crawl from my neck, past my beard, and on up to my Stetson. Pulling out a hanky, I blotted the sweat that suddenly sprouted from my forehead and smiled weakly as my best gal crossed her arms over her chest. The painted grin on her face belied her true feelings.

"Gina? When did'ja start workin' here?"

"Oh, about the same time I graduated from clown college. And the name's Blinky." She grunted, stuffing a loose strand of hair back into her bright red wig.

I rubbed the back of my neck and kicked an imaginary speck off fluff on the purple carpet.

"Well, shoot, If'n I'd a knowed…"

"You would've returned the butt-ugly shoes, that I picked out especially for you, when I wasn't here?"

"Shucks, Gina, er, Blinky, I 'preciate the thought and all but ya know I'd be a laughin'stock at the rodeo if I wore those things," I gestured helplessly at the box.

Blinky snorted, sending her bright red nose bouncing from her face, to the floor.

"You're a rodeo clown, Butch!" she shouted. The plastic nose squeaked as she bent and snatched it from the floor, "You're supposed to make them laugh!"

"That don't mean I ain't got standards," I sniffed.

Blinky sighed and marched to the register, her shoes squeaking with each step that she took.

"If you hate them that much, Butch, I guess I'll take them back..."

"Oh, thank ya Gin--I mean, Blinky. While yer at it, could I exchange this bowtie me ma gave me? It jest ain't right…"