Coulromoichephobia: The fear that right now, right this very second, a clown is having sex with your wife. We're not talking about gentle lovemaking, either - they're afraid the clown is really giving her the business.
They imagine his big shoes are flopping around, there's greasepaint all over the sheets, and the clown's polka dotted jumper is undone over a sweaty chest working like a bellows. Periodically, the adulterous wife reaches up and gives the bulbous nose a tweak, eliciting a muted honk. The clown's face is scrunched with the effort, mouth hanging slightly open, but the paint of his big, red smile stretches ear to ear.
Before you dismiss their fear as ridiculous, just imagine walking in on that. Really put yourself in their shoes and see the clown who's cuckolding you.
He's not an old clown, but he's not a young clown either; he's middle aged, somewhere in the morass of his thirties, and when he's done clowning for the day he gets a pain in his right knee that he worries is growing worse. He wishes he could get it checked out, but he doesn't have health insurance - he's officially an independent contractor with Zing-a-ling Party Solutions, which means they don't have to provide benefits or pay minimum wage.
He hasn't called his parents in years because of the argument they had at Christmas. He can still hear his mother hoarsely shouting, "You're ruining our family!", and the way his father said nothing at all, which was somehow louder. Emily had her baby last week, a girl she named after her grandmother. He's glad she found a way to move forward after the divorce, but he still wakes up in the middle of the night wanting to call her, like a kid asking for a glass of water.
But you know what makes the pain of all the years go away? Giving it to your wife when you're not around.
A man with this phobia will call his wife over and over each day to make sure she isn't sleeping with a clown. Here's one side of a conversation taped during the case study:
"Hey honey! Just thought I'd call from the office! How's your day go- what the hell is that squeaking noise!? Oh, the dishwasher. Whew. No, I'm not angry. Sorry I haven't fixed it yet. Call a repairman? Sure, I'm really busy at work this week. There's a number in the phonebook, nevermind, don't, NEVERMIND! You might accidentally call one of those party places and order a clown. Ha ha, that'd be horrible. You don't like clowns, right? What do you mean I've asked you that like three times today? No reason. Look sweetie, I've gotta go. Have a good day, I love you! Don't fuck a clown! ... What? The last thing I said? You mean 'I love you'? What did it sound like? Huh. That's weird. Bye!"His whole life is based around safeguarding his wife's poontang from clowns, and it is exhausting.
He'd like to get therapy, knows he needs therapy, but he's too ashamed. At his most lucid moments he realizes his wife loves him and would never do anything to hurt him. How would she feel if she found out what he thought?
Also, the therapist could be in league with the clown. As soon as he'd lay down on the couch for the hour, the clown would go on the clock too. In fact, he figures there's no end to all the people who are working with the clown.
The guy in front of him in traffic, doing five under the speed limit?
Giving the clown more time to get his rocks off.
The checker in the grocery store who says her machine just went down, and will everyone move to lane thirteen?
Paid off by the clown.
That new guy at work who dumped the J & L account on him, making him work late?
He thinks it's the clown's brother. Didn't new guy say his brother was in entertainment?
And has he actually seen his sister-in-law's new baby? All his wife has shown him are the pictures, and she stayed with her for over a week. Her sister lives three states away, and there's a million pictures of babies on the internet. He thinks the clown took her to the beach...maybe he'd better check all her shoes for sand.
He'd give up on the marriage altogether, but damn it he loves her. The fact that he spent last Tuesday night at the strip club, calling the girl working the pole "Bozo" is just his dues for putting up with his wife's constant, circus related infidelity.