story from a friend of a friend of a professor of mine ^_^ But it's a true story.

This was a man who never really liked clowns. In fact he was one of those people that has an irrational phobia of clowns. It wasn't so bad as the Can't sleep, clowns will eat me tee shirts, but clowns just made him nervous, and he wasn't at all fond of them. He tried to not go to places where there were lots of clowns, and they didn’t particularly try to find him, so his fear was rather to the back of his mind most of the time.

One day, though, he finds himself on some fairly long commute, sees his car is running low on gas, and pulls in to a gas station/restraints to refuel both the car and himself. He tanks up, eats a quick meal and heads to the restroom to do his business before continuing his drive. It's empty and he finds himself a urinal.

Partway through, the door opens and another man enters the restroom. Following male bathroom etiquette, our traveler doesn't pay any attention to the newcomer, who situations himself a couple urinals down. But finally his sense of wrongness and the weirdness he sees out of corner of his eye gets the better of him and he turns to get a better look. It's a clown. Man in a full clown outfit, baggy jumper, big boots, wig, nose, greasepaint, and all, standing there using the urinal casual as can be.

Our "hero" starts getting nervous, since clowns weird him out at the best of times, and this isn't exactly in those best times, either. He looks away. Looks nervously at the wall, trying to hurry up. Looks at the clown again out of morbid curiosity. Looks away, looks at the clown yet again. And this time the clown is looking back, makes direct eye contact.

And this clown, standing there in full get-up, smoking a cigarette, using the urinal, looks the man square in the eye, notices his nervousness, and drawls in the kind of drawl only a true southerner at a gas station can accomplish, "Buddy, ain't no one never gonna believe you", finishes, and walks out.