Non-Costume Party
Hey, Debra, thanks so much for having me at this party. It's been a lot of fun.
Uh… I guess I should probably explain my appearance. I had thought this was a costume party. And, actually, it's kind of weird that no one noticed I was dressed up as Harry Potter.
I mean, what does it say about me that I came to a party filled with my closest friends, and nobody thought twice about me wearing a cloak and glasses? Am I trying too hard to get attention in life? Am I the guy who wears a cloak to a normal, non-costume party?
The invitation said to “dress up.” Does that not mean costumes? To me, that means “wear a costume.”
When I first got here, I assumed everyone else's costumes were just super subtle. Like, I thought Phil was dressed as Where's Waldo. But, then it turned out that his wife had bought him a new shirt. Which explains why he looked at me funny when I said, “There you are! There’s Waldo!”
When I finally realized that I was the only one dressed up, I got really confused as to why nobody was calling me out on it. I mean, sure, people were giving me a hard time, but no harder of a time than normal.
Was everyone ignoring me being in costume on purpose? Was it a prank? Like a “don’t encourage him” kind of thing. But, it wasn’t that. People genuinely didn’t seem to notice that I was dressed as a boy wizard. So, I started dropping hints. Like saying lines from the Harry Potter movies and pretending to cast a spell on the punch bowl. But, nothing. People honestly didn't realize I was in costume. Honestly, that's fucked up!
It's not just that you guys are unobservant, which you clearly are. I mean, let's share some of the blame here. But, more importantly, it says something about me. It's says that I'm that guy.
I always worried I was that guy. Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew I liked attention a little too much. And, part of me understood I have kind of a “goofy younger brother” thing going on. But, Jesus Christ, am I the guy that everyone just assumes is always wearing a costume? So, that when I actually do wear a costume, nobody notices?
I had a full-born panic attack about that when Charlie was blowing out his birthday candles. That’s why I was sitting on the coffee table with my head between my knees. I don’t think anybody saw me. Or maybe they did. Maybe they thought I was being my normal, weird self…
Phew…
… It feels like the floor is dropping out from under me. I don’t mean to be a drama queen here. Am I a drama queen? I guess only a drama queen would ask that question.
So, yeah, I’m gonna head out. Maybe take some time to think about stuff. Maybe join an ashram or something. Unless that’s attention-seeking as well. It probably is …
Anyway, nice party. Tell Charlie happy birthday for me. G'night.
Stop Looking at Me!
Hey, weirdo, what are you looking at? I’m serious. What the fuck are you looking at? Stop staring at me. You think just because I’m wearing this chicken costume, I want assholes like you to stare at me? Just take the flyer and move on already.
Yeah, I get it, I’m hilarious--a grown man dressed up as a chicken. Ha ha ha, so funny. Ooh, look at my big chicken feet. Grow up, dude! Everybody has to put food on the table, even if that means doing this shit. Now, get a life and leave me the fuck alone.
Stop looking at me. Seriously, I am about this close to putting your teeth down the back of your throat. You think this is funny? You think I want to hand out these Popeye’s flyers? Stop smiling, asshole. It’s not funny.
I don’t care if you are three years old. Take your fucking teddy bear and get the fuck out of here. Stop giggling. There’s nothing funny about this. No! No, stop hugging me. I’m not Donald Duck. Stop it!
Lady, come over here and get your kid. Lady, please get your toddler to stop hugging me. And, here, this is a this coupon for a medium drink with purchase any three piece dinner.
.
[Author's note: In full disclosure, the ending of this was inspired by the true story of an acquaintance.]