Manolo says, it is Monday and you are back at your workstation, stationary and working, adding your tuppence to the coffers of the economy, and this morning, for the first time ever in your life, you are ready to admit that perhaps this entire Halloween thing has gotten out of the hand.
On your desk this morning, there was the memo from the high management commanding everyone to wear the costumes next Friday (accompanied by the long list of inappropriate costumes, including the Frito Bandito, Charlie Chan, Stepin Fetchit, Klansman, Crack Ho, and Chief Executive Officer, all characters who have, in past, put in appearances at various corporate parties, with the predictably hilarious and/or traumatic results.)
Almost as bad, over the weekend, someone turned the break room into the haunted house, complete with the gizmo that causes the refrigerator to make the ghostly cackling sound when you open the door. And now, all morning long, it has been “Eeeh ha ha ha ha heeeeh!” every thirty seconds, and your nerves are jangly and on edge, and you have begun to look around for the butcher knife.
“What’s your costume going to be,” asks Meghan, the preternaturally chipper young colleague, who has suddenly appeared at the edge of your cubicle.
“Eh, I don’t know. Probably a witch.”
“A sexy witch?”
There is no way you are going to be the sexy anything, not after last year’s office Halloween party debacle, in which the assistant chief of accounting, Ms. Glunch, showed up wearing the well broken-in dominatrix outfit, complete with peaked Nazi officer’s cap and riding crop, which she used liberally on various underlings.
“I’m going to be a sexy Brownie,” announces Meghan.
“A sexy Brownie, you know, like a girl scout. I’ve got a brown micro-mini skirt, knee socks, a blue shirt, and that little beanie. I’ve even a sash with some merit badges for sexy things, like strip-tease and, um… other things.”
You’re on the verge of trying to dissuade this young woman from dressing up like the seven-year-old girl scout/prostitute, when suddenly, from the other room, “Eeeh ha ha ha ha heeeeh!”
“Oh, that’s so funny,” says Meghan by way of response, “when I was decorating the break room, I was sure you couldn’t hear that out here. I love that! It’s so funny. So, what do you think of my costume?”
“Rock on, sexy Brownie.”
Of the course, if you were to decide to appear as the sexy something-or-other you would wear boots, sexy boots, like these wedge-heeled thigh-high boots from the Camilla Skovgaard You would not need to expose the single inch of flesh to be sexy in these boots, indeed you could wear the burqa and go as the wildly inappropriate “Sexy Muslim Woman”.