Now, for most office Halloween parties, figuring out what to wear would not be a problem. I mean, honestly, we all know it's not hard. You just pick something, maybe grab a ready-to-wear pirate or witch costume off a rack, or cut a couple of eye holes in a sheet and go as a ghost, and you're done. But my office Halloween party was different. There could be no quick and easy fix: oh no. You see, the owners of the company I work for also ran a local community theater company, and so not only would the party be populated by employees, but by costume and set designers from all over town! Plus, our hostess was one of the top directors in local theater whose brilliance in sets and costuming and so forth was widely renowned.
No, if I was going to have even a chance of winning the costume contest, I would have to pick something big. Something brilliant. Something truly unique. Like last year.
Last year, I was in the same situation. The very day of the Halloween party, I still had squat for ideas. In desperation, mere hours before the event, I posted a public blog entry, begging for input. Stretching my already overtaxed imagination to the near breaking point, I inventoried the piles of stuff in my cluttered office, and came up with the following.
First, I could drape myself in yards of blue-green sari fabric and go as a water sprite. Second, I could dress all in black with my thigh-high black fencing boots, and go as Zorro. Third, I could put my hair up, dress very conservatively, put on glasses, and go as a stereotypical librarian. Or, I could wear a skin-tight black turtleneck, a bunch of jewelry, high-heeled black boots, camoflage battle dress uniform pants left over from my stint in the Army, a big red "Peg Bundy" wig, and carry an AK-47 -- I'd go as "Glambo."
At the time of posting, I had less than six hours to decide. I anxiously awaited my friends' input.
Much to my surprise, within minutes, the votes began pouring in. "Glambo!" "Glambo, definitely, and don't forget the tiara!" "Glambo. No question." "Gotta go as Glambo." "Glambo. With the AK. Do not forget the earrings. Oh, and I will need pictures of all of this."
Well then. It looked like it was unanimous. Glambo appeared to be the winner. I think it was the idea of carrying the AK-47 that did it. After all, how many people in the office (or in the local theater community, for that matter) own an AK-47? And not only that, but own both a Chinese and a Bulgarian AK? I was sure to be unique just on the basis of bringing an assault weapon!
Yes, yes. The more I thought about it, the more the idea appealed. But first, I would have to do some work on the AK. It definitely needed some glam-o-flage. I decided that a Hello!Kitty theme would not only be simply wrong on so many levels but that it would go perfectly with the idea of Glambo.
I ensured that the weapon was unloaded, and forced the bolt open and stuffed the receiver with a pink, fluffy, eyelash-yarn Hello!Kitty ankle sock, with the little Hello!Kitty face peering out from the side. I then festooned the AK with some lovely yellow lei flowers and pink and purple curly ribbons for that extra-feminine touch.
I stopped periodically to post the pictures online for my friends to witness the transformation, and much approval was displayed all around.
After donning the previously described "costume," wig, and pink marabou tiara, I was ready to go. I checked my blog comments one last time, and suddenly, ran into an obstacle I hadn't considered. "Just make sure you won't get in trouble for an empty disabled gun," one of my friends had posted, "Some places are super strict on that sort of thing these days."
Hm. I hadn't considered that. Could it be possible that some people wouldn't appreciate my carrying an assault rifle to the company Halloween party? I couldn't imagine it, but then again, after all the news stories of employees "going postal," perhaps this could make people a bit nervous. I went into a bit of a panic attack, I'll admit it. The AK was a needed accessory for Glambo! Glambo without a weapon just wasn't NEARLY as funny. What was I going to do?
[to be continued here]