With All Hallow’s Eve creeping up along the horizon and this year earmarking 20 hefty years for
the longest-running sitcom in the land of Uncle Sam, the nine-to-six threw a grand invitation-exclusive gala, scareriffically-themed, this weekend past.
So I snagged a lovely
lass to venture with me to the much-awaited Simpsons shindig the Saturday prior, and after slogging 40 miles in grisly LA traffic, we reached the vicinity, where a daunting labyrinth of lofty edifices confuddled our already lackluster senses of direction. It did not help that not a pinprick of light emanating from a streetlamp was to be found in the darkness-submerged precinct. A handful of U-turns, polite inquiry of unwary pedestrians, and belting to dizzying choruses of “Don’t Stop Believin’” (
Glee’s rendition, of course) to placate the mounting frazzle later, we pinpointed the dome-shaped establishment tucked in the corner of Obscurity and Nowhere. We parked in the eerily still lot littered with only a smattering of vehicles. Why are there so few cars? I glanced at the invite to double-check the address. Yep, this was the place. We clambered upon the structure’s front entryway, but the entire interior seemed void of human presence. Our toe-pinching heels click-clacked hollowly on the sterile white tiled floor as we hunted down the door to the party. Dim shadows engulfed the hallways and arbitrary creaking embellished our search. I shivered. Jeepers. They’ve got the spine-chilling motif down.
We spied a flood of light gushing from a door held ajar in the back. I could hear the familiar sound of Bart Simpson’s signature jeer, and with relief, we entered through those chosen doors. Our eyes drank in the gargantuan screening of the upcoming Simpsons Halloween episode, the cavernous space, the black velvet wall hangings, the hundreds of blood-red tableclothed tables & chairs, and…only a sparse crowd? Where was everyone? After all, we were merely 2 hours tardy, still redeemable as fashionably late.
Thoroughly bewildered, we timidly approached a man tinkering with a coil of sound system cords. “’Scuse me, sir, is this the Fox Simpsons party?” Janice asked.
The man looked up, gave us a once-over, and stared at us quizzically before at last answering slowly, “Uh, yeah…but it’s not today.”
“What?!” I screeched before I could stop myself. “Are you serious?”
“We’re setting up, but it’s not today,” he replied, and even the absence of light could not conceal the amusement playing fitfully across his face.
“OH. MY. GOODNESS,” Janice and I exclaimed as we simultaneously threw our heads back in uproarious laughter.
After expressing a hasty thanks to the man who most assuredly correlated our intelligence level with what had just ensued, we laughed our side-splitting way back to my car. I gandered at the invite once more, and sure enough, the festivity was not to be held till the following day. Who in the world misses that?
In the words of Homer Simpson, “D’oh!”
Nonetheless, we embarked for the glitzy bash 24 hours later, and ‘twas worth the second endeavor. And ‘twas worth Boss 1’s reaction whence I divulged to him the sordid tale this afternoon:
Boss 1: (laughing hysterically) Oh my God, that’s precious. Thank God I’m not the only one who screws up around here.
It assuredly jarred me into alertness. And y'all know that with my peculiarly inept morningtide state of mind, I need all the help I can muster - thanks, God. God's multi-faceted creation truly is breathtakingly astounding and unlike any other. And these paltry traces of His glory we're able to ascertain here on earth are nothing compared to what is to come (Revelation 21:5). Jeepers!
Cheers to impending peachy times. Have a rollicking costumed treat-indulgent weekend, guys and gals!
BOSS 1
Janice: you ready to head out?
