I remember it like it was yesterday
though I should have forgotten it then
like it was 10 years ago
which today it is.
I felt like Charlie Brown
who never got to party
and like Mark Twain
who would have found it the perfect party
the one to which he had not been invited.
Johnny's Halloween party was the buzz of
the building.
"Everyone's invited," the said.
Except me.
I heard excited clamor
which seemed to decrease dramatically
in volume as it drew closer
trailing off to a drowning whisper.
I have my own plans, I thought. Really
awesome plans.
But when the uninformed asked me if I
was "going to Johnny's Halloween party,"
I donned a thick mask of sarcasm
which was lost on them.
"Of course," I replied. "Everybody whose
anybody's going to Johnny's party!"
"I wouldn't be caught dead anyplace else!"
Before the spread of the texting pandemic
E-mail was the state-of-the-art
communication.
Maybe my invitation was lost in
cyberspace.
When entering hundreds of e-mail
addresses, inadvertently omitting one is easy.
The maintenance man, the janitor, and the
mailman all came.
I later heard that the janitor went as
Hong Kong Phooey.
I played it cool.
Of course, I couldn't ask, "Hey, Johnny,
can I come?"
If he doesn't want to invite me, who
needs him.
Everyone's invited.
When I finally let it slip
that I was in a snit
had my proverbial panties in a bunch
Johnny told someone, who told someone
who told me,
"Of course, you're invited. Everyone's
invited."
I spent that night listening to an old
Statler Brothers song instead.
Copyright February 19, 2012 by Allan M. Heller
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