Halloween

The other night I found myself enjoying a spectacular view on one of the three rooftop decks of the Tribeca triplex apartment owned by the President and CEO of the company where I work.

As far as office parties go, this one was pretty stellar. The fact that it was a Halloween party really pushed it into the realm of actual fun, which is not typical of how I feel on the subject of “employee morale” efforts. While I’m not a water-cooler gossiper, and I prefer not to partake in the inevitable kvetching that is ubiquitous in any work environment, I'm also not big on the Team Spirit hoo-ha. In general, I’d really rather not talk about my job, period.

But there I was at 9pm on an unseasonably warm Tuesday, wearing butterfly wings, covered in gold glitter, and feeling the love for my fellow co-workers, for their willingness to also dress up and let loose. The Capitol One Viking and I bonded over the amusement of taking the subway in full costume. The Queen of Hearts and I waxed poetic over the pumpkin cheesecake. Mozart and I raised our arms to the sky and sang along as the DJ played the Black Eyed Peas “I got a feeling”

… that tonight’s gonna be a good night,
That tonight’s gonna be a good, good night,
Woo hoo…

Emboldened by my mask, I felt sassier, more courageous. I joked with the Senior Executives. I made small talk with industry colleagues about non-work matters and felt more like myself than I ever do in my “work-appropriate attire.” And then I patted myself on the back for knowing it was better to leave early while still having fun.

I hailed a cab, and as he slowed down to meet me at the curb, the driver looked at my wings and grinned. “But you can fly home!” he exclaimed.

The bells on my butterfly antennas jingled all the way home as we hit each pothole. As I climbed out of the taxi, glitter dusted off me and settled on the seat. I envisioned a golden, telltale trail drawing a magical line across Manhattan, like TinkerBell’s stars.

Indeed, it was a good, good night.