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Posts Tagged ‘Parties’

Suit Up Sunday and a failure of epic proportions

In Just absolutely dominating people on January 20, 2009 at 12:38 am

Keystone Lights were crushed, a delicious smorgasbord of food was served, and one attendee of Suit Up Sunday had to hide the fact that he cried by leaving the room to “go to the bathroom.” Only 4 out of 5 attendees dressed appropriately, but everyone had a strong showing. Without further adieu, the participants:

Yours truly: Since the last days of 2008, I have been waiting for an occasion to break out the camel hair jacket that I found in the back of my old closet while I was home for Christmas. In addition to my salmon (it’s a super sexy, ultra-manly version of pink for those of you not in the know) shirt and pinstriped pants, I had the magnificently retro (though equally heinous) maroon, green, blue and orange striped tie made by The Racquet Club.

Cali: His 1980s Le Tigre jacket and khakis combination over a white dress shirt and blue tie screamed IT Director, but quickly became “out of work IT Director” when we discovered that not only did the shirt have short sleeves, but the tie was a clip on. However, his status upgraded to “badass IT Director” when he revealed that the clip on was authentic airport security that he had purchased from a laid off airline worker on ebay for the princely sum of $6.

The Chaz Bone: Chaz definitely won the award for most accurate portrayal of the men in the Canadian Club ads that helped spark interest in Suit Up Sunday, as his 1970s Brooks Brother plaid suit that was passed down from his father made it clear that not only is he a soon to be distinguished businessman, he was the classiest of the bunch. To that end, he provided delicious Scotch.

Beads: As anticipated, Beads rocked the 3 piece Burberry suit to perfection as he paired it with a solid red tie and sunglasses. With his new Boston Terrier puppy, Peaches, added in, the only thing that was missing from his outfit was a leash and a cane.

Xtine: Xtine is Beads’s lovely wife who not only puts up with his shenanigans, but also puts up with ours. Not only did Xtine not class it up, she also made a side bet with Alex that we wouldn’t dress up for Suit Up Sunday, which was like betting that the hapless Devil Rays and the moribund football Cardinals would make it to their respective championships. Wait, what? Anyway, because she lost, she had to drink with us all day. Unfortunately, even after several beers she refused to class it up by even throwing on a sundress (we originally pushed for her wedding dress, to no avail). However, she allowed degeneracy to occur on her watch and made some delicious bean and cheese dip, so this transgression was overlooked.

My outfit was a calculated decision, as I wanted to channel a community college professor a la Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting. What class would I be teaching? Bitch Slapping 101. Beads, as expected, was unaware that we were even in a bet until I directed him to JSF. Soon everyone in the room was anticipating the Slap Heard Round New Jersey. Not since the Soporanos went off the air has northern New Jersey seen the level of pain I planned to induce. People all around the nation were debating whether Beads would be able to continue law school after I caused the right side of his face to cave in. Upon signing into my email account this morning, I promptly received a gchat from my mother (ghact with parents is kosher, being friends on facebook is not). No hello, no good morning. Just “did you slap him????”

The answer is yes, but as I relayed the details to her, I’m surprised she didn’t disown me. What am I talking about? I’m talking about failure.

The best idea would have been to wait until late at night, when the booze had run its course and Sunday Funday had stretched into Monday. But I started trembling with so much excitement that I would literally spill half the bean dip off my Tostito before getting it to my mouth. After being in his home for an hour, it became time to break to seal, and I had to first pass Alex.

What followed was perhaps the most disappointing, embrassing, regreattable moment of my life.

For a brief ten seconds, I became the idiotic kid who is so excited to open his Christmas present that he breaks the toy inside. In what can only be described as a “Jim blows his one chance with the hot foreign exchange student Nadia” moment, I made a split second decision to just go for it, and reached my right hand back to deliver the slap. My form was off from the start, and instead of making his head turn around like an owl, I barely grazed him with the tips of my index, middle and ring fingers. I have seen kids in kindergarten classes slap people harder for cutting them in the snack line. I have seen elderly women slap each other harder for an alleged scoring mistake during a Saturday morning bowling league match. I have seen babies slap each other harder than I slapped Beads.

As the laughter roared behind me, I walked into the bathroom and slumped against the wall. It was over. The slap I had written about, obessed about, dreamed about for over 96 hours had come and gone and I was left with nothing but shame, confusion and regret. In other words, it was a lot like my first kiss. So, the great slap of 2009 will go down not as the bone crushing slap that you all wanted, but as the slap that was as soft as an angel’s kiss.

Sadness.