Smile and put on a happy face

Sophie ♥️

There's a place called Pogo's. I like to go there after work sometimes. It's a nice place where excessive laughter is never a problem. People do stand up comedy. They stand in front of the public and tell their jokes. I always sit at a small table, one of those that have only one chair. I make sure to bring my notebook with me. I try to learn more so I can be a good comedian. For that matter, it's important to write a few things down. For example, it seems that sexual things are always funny, although I don't understand many of those jokes. I also notice that the tone in which one speaks is important, as well as the face and hand gestures. I need to work harder on my jokes and then when I'm ready, I'll present myself. I wonder what it's like to be on that stage with all those lights and all those people looking at me. I imagine their applause...their laughter...yes, it would indeed be extraordinary!

"I would like to be a comedian...but I'm just a clown. Big people are whatever they want to be. Small people are whatever they can be."

I have two colleagues at work, Randy and Gary. Randy is huge and pretty fat. Gary, on the other hand is a dwarf. Literally. This morning each one of us is getting ready to head out to work. Randy paints his face, just like me. Gary doesn't. He doesn't need a disguise. Sometimes he uses weird hats but that's all. I like Gary. He doesn't make fun of me. Perhaps because everyone mocks him...just like they mock me.

- Hey, Art- says Randall - I heard there were some incidents last week.-

- Ah yes... everything is pretty crazy out there.- I say.

- Take this. You need to defend yourself.- he tells me and hands me a small package.

- What's this?

I carefully open it.

- Randall...I'm not supposed to have such a thing.

How does he even think of giving me a gun?! He knows about my condition. I want to give it back but he insists I keep it.

- Listen, keep it, Art. You pay me whenever you can.

I really don't want it but Randall walks away and leaves it to me. I put the gun in my bag with no intention of ever using it.

The therapist doesn't mind me smoking during our sessions. That's good, because otherwise it would be harder for me to talk.

- Could you give me a new card? The last one was taken from me...

- Yes, sure. Here you are. Keep it safe.

-...

- You told me about a little girl in our last session. Do you want to tell me more about that?

- Yes. Gigi. She visits me every night before she goes to bed. It's not even five minutes but it's the best part of my day. Even better than Murray's show.

- She visits you?

- Yes. She knocks on my door just to wish me a good night and then she leaves. Sometimes she brings me something and sometimes she asks me to tell her a joke.

- Does her mother know about this?

- I don't know...I rarely see her. I think she works late.

- It's not a good idea that a grown man is visited by a little girl without her mother knowing about it. She could think you have bad intentions with her daughter.

- What??? Why would you say something so horrible?!

I'm not sure why, but I perceive something very twisted in this logic.