Keeping Company This Halloween

Everything I need to know, I learned at the company Halloween party



 

Before I get to the story, my lawyers have advised me to put in this teensy-tiny C.Y.A. disclaimer: What you are about to read is purely fictional. Never happened. Nope. In fact, any resemblance to persons living or deceased is a magical co-inky-dink. Just like Chi-Chi's pretends to be authentic Mexican food, so is this, my little story. So put down the phone and tell yourself this was one of the other jobs I held, m'kay? With that out of the way, here is what I learned from the costumes at my company's Halloween party. The "fictional one" (wink wink).  

You came as a witch ... You probably are one. Sorry. I once had a supervisor who donned this particular outfit on October 31st and we all peed our pants at the irony! So take it from me, don't give your underlings a reason to hate you even more. They already know you are evil. They don't need a receipt.

A Star Trek character or any member of the Big Bang cast ... You are the IT guy/gal. I'm not messing with you. Honest! I admire your loyalty to the geek army.  You're probably the most authentic person in the room. I salute you -- all Spock-style with the hand/finger-separation thing and stuff -- Live long and prosper, my brethren.  

Wore a French Maid get-up.... How do I put this delicately? Let's see ... It rhymes with camp/door/looker. Get it? Got it? Good. Now go change, Jezebel.

An inflatable Sumu-wrestler, giant ketchup bottle, tampon or toaster --- You are a salesperson. We get it. You are super fun, friendly and awesome. If type A had a picture, you would be its poster child. Now move along, Fun-Bobby, we're aware.

A Nurse/Doctor costume ... You desperately want to be taken seriously but you get no respect. I would go so far to say you would hijack your cube-mate in a NY minute to get some street cred. But, sadly, you are an invisible accountant or a money manager. What no one knows is that you are like gods; controlling the company like a puppeteer. I love you guys! Now focus your attention somewhere else. Away from me, please, as I bow in reverence mixed with a generous dose of fear.

Alien/Iron Man/ Paranormal Apparition ... You are one paranoid Muthaaaa and probably an unpaid intern or mailroom clerk. Sure, I hang out with you when I get  my coffee at 8 a.m., but you are as strange to me as a bowl of hair. You are also 19. I don't get you at all. But thanks for fixing my I-pod, un-locking my cell phone and hooking me up with an impenetrable password for my e-mail. You freak me out with your magical, just-out-of-diapers wisdom!  

A Disney character ... Chelloooo Accounts Receivable! God bless you all. You just want to be liked. It practically drips from your adorable heads. And who would blame you? You get whipped and screamed at daily. I could never do what you do. You should be Sainted and given a fabulous spa vacation quarterly.

Didn't even bother to dress up ... Welcome, Human Resources! You have obviously interviewed enough freaks and nefarious criminals that Halloween has become just another 24 hours in your work-a-day life. I pity you and your slag-trolling job.  But thank you for hiring me! Muuu-waaahhh!

Superhero ... Purchasing just showed up. These people are like drug dealers. You beg them for "fixes" like Post-it notes and paperclips, yet they do not yield willingly. Oh no. Happily they accept bribes. And, like the mobsters they are, they say nothing after the transaction. They're good like that.

 Dolly Parton or any singer/performer ...  Any doubt this person is the receptionist? Yes, that enchanting voice, cheerleader background and stunning good looks has paid off in spades! I don't know how you do it, but you make butterflies look sad. How could we function without you?

Dressed like a woman ... You are probably a man. Most likely the CEO of the company. I have no idea why, but men LOVE to dress-up as women. It's weird ... because it IS! The big Kahuna thinks he's being funny dressed as Marilyn. Ingratiating even. He wants to be liked by us plebes, even though he could buy and sell us on E-Bay for a quarter. The worst part? No amount of bleach will white-wash our brains from this, our CEO in drag. It will take untold years of therapy and an ocean-liner full of Xanax to erase this scary Halloween memory.   

A Viking with a humongous sword ... This is what I wore. Freud would have a field day with this one. But sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, right?

 

  

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