The Best Day of My Life

A short story

April 13th, 1996. That was the greatest day of my life. Why was it so magnificent? I’m glad you asked. To answer, I will walk you through exactly what happened that blessed day.

It was a Saturday. I woke up at around 10:00am. Not early by any means but not too late. I got out of bed, dragged myself over to the bathroom, and brushed my teeth. Then I lathered on some shaving cream and took a straight razor to my face. I have always preferred straight razors. You just can’t get that quality of shave using anything else.

Anyway, I hopped in the shower after shaving and stayed there for twenty minutes or so. I was lost in thought. Deep thought. About what, I don’t remember. Just that something had really caught my attention during that morning shower.

After getting out of the shower, I dried off and got dressed. Then I drove to a local cafe called The Bee’s Knees. I don’t know what they put in their dark roast but it’s damn good. I brought a book with me to the cafe. I pulled it out and read it while sipping my coffee. It was a funny book. Not funny in a comedic sense, but funny in a “something’s off” sense. I don’t remember the title but it was about this man that woke up one day and believed he was a little kid again. The poor guy was stuck in his past. Couldn’t function normally anymore.

Sorry, I’m rambling. I promise this story is worth it. It was a tremendous day after all. A day like no other.

I finished my coffee and got back into my car. I was going to go home but something deep down called on me to drive around a little. I drove around and spotted this most interesting specimen of a man. He was middle-aged and looked incredibly normal, except for one aspect. He was wearing a big red clown nose.

Of course, I absolutely had to see what he was all about. I rolled down my window and asked him his name. His name was Bartholomew. We exchanged a few words and Bartholomew asked if I could give him a ride. I told him he could hop in. I had only one condition, he must tell me his life story.

We drove around and he told me all about his failures and his successes. When he was 20, he dropped out of college to pursue his big dream. The guy wanted to create the biggest spice company in the western hemisphere. I thought he was joking so I chuckled. I looked over to him. Guy’s face was deadpan. As serious as can be.

I felt horrible. Dropping out of college to start a spice company sounded comical to me. I soon learned it was no laughing matter. Over the next twenty-five minutes, I was given a crash course on all the ins and outs of the spice business.

Bartholomew told me that there were a few different reasons his venture failed. But long story short, you do not fuck with McCormick & Company.

We talked some more and he told me all about these wild exploits of his. I was interested of course, but I had one specific question on my mind. What was up with the clown nose?

I was honestly getting a bit impatient. You know when you’re talking to someone, and you want something that only they can give you, and they know what you want, and they know only they can give it to you, and they withhold that thing from you because they enjoy the feeling of power it gives them? That’s what I was feeling a bit with Bartholomew.

After he finished recounting his trip to Spain, I took advantage of the lull in the conversation. I said, “look, Bartholomew, I am interested in your stories, don’t get me wrong. But to be honest, there’s one question that’s been on my mind since the moment I saw you. Would you mind telling me the story behind your nose?”

“Behind my nose?

“Yes.”

“Sure, I will tell you the story behind my nose.”

“When I was 32 years old, I was not in the best situation. Life hadn’t gone as I planned. One day, I decided to go for a walk. I was tired of the routine of everyday life and wanted to try something new.

I was walking through a back alley when I spotted something on the ground. I saw a red clown nose. I wondered what its story was. How did it end up here? I continued walking but soon stopped. I walked back to the nose and put it on. I don’t know why I did that or what I was expecting to happen, but I did it and continued on my walk.

A group of children saw me walking with this ridiculous nose on my face and they burst out laughing. I felt happy for the first time in a while. Through the small act of putting on this nose, I brightened a bunch of people’s days.

Now, whenever I have an off day where I’m not feeling too well, I put on a red clown nose. I do it to remind myself that not everything is rotten, and small actions can brighten people’s days.”

Bartholomew and I talked some more and then we arrived at his destination and parted ways. I got home that afternoon and read some more of my book. I ate dinner around 8pm, brushed once more, and went to sleep.

What a day it was.