Saturday, December 29, 2018

The Surprise Massacre

This year I turned 40 years old, and my spousal unit and brother decided to band together to coordinate a surprise party for me.  Somehow, they actually managed to do it all in secret, none of the usual weak links blabbed about it, and I was actually surprised when it all went down.  The main factor that my spousal unit had going for her is that I trust her completely.  So, the endless stream of text messages with persons unknown that went on for weeks didn’t peak my suspicions.  Maybe some jealous husbands would have thought she had some sort of secret lover and would have broken her phone passcode to find out what was going on…but not me.

The second factor that she had going for her was being in cahoots with my brother.  He could do things in the background, like coordinating guests and ordering party supplies, so my spousal unit didn’t get caught doing that.  But even still, the whole affair was quite a well-planned operation, worthy of a military offensive.  My spousal unit pulled out all of the stops.  As I previously-stated, I am a trusting person, so I generally leave my phone sitting on the counter when I’m at home.  I don’t obsessively carry it around with me, so it’s easily-accessible at all hours of the day.  I also don’t lock it; because one, I have nothing to hide, and two, I get annoyed after the first effort to unlock it.  This gave my spousal unit the perfect opportunity.

The third factor that she had going for her is the fact that she’s pregnant, which gave her some cover excuse.  I didn’t think anything of it when she would get up at 2 o’clock in the morning and head into the den.  I thought she was just uncomfortable and needed to sit up on the couch, which was actually true on some nights, but she also used the same excuse to grab my phone off the counter and raid my contact list.  I would find out later that in addition to some of my sister-in-law’s family, my spousal unit had invited some of my friends from work, my friends from different states, my friends that lived on the other side of Texas, and even my old roommates from college that just happened to be visiting family for the holidays.  Unfortunately, not everyone could make it, but it’s the thought that counts, and my spousal unit pulled out all of the thoughts…er…stops.

So, the key to any good surprise birthday party is getting the naturally, home-bodied birthday boy out of the house for some extended period of time.  This allows the collaborators to set up decorations and get food, and allows the guests to sneak into the house unnoticed.  To truly pull this off well, the excuse has to be simple enough that you don’t have to make up a lot of details and elaborate enough that it involves extended period of time outside of the house.  Too many details are what makes people ask questions and be suspicious, which is bad.  You want people to have their guard down and not delve too deeply into the motivation behind suddenly needing to do…fill in the blank.

In this instance, my brother asked me to take him and my nieces to the mall to go shopping.  My spousal unit and sister-in-law decided to stay behind.  This was not suspicious, because my spousal unit is pregnant and often doesn’t feel well, and my sister-in-law is the type of person that would rather sit on her phone than participate in a physical activity.  It was my brother that almost let the cat out of the bag with his reason for why he wanted to go to the mall.  But it was still a simple enough request not to have my alarms going off, and any questions I might have had were squashed by my unconditional love for my nieces and my desire to make them happy.

So, we went to the mall.  I won’t bore you with those details, but needless to say, they stalled for hours by going into every…single…store.  Again, nothing unusual when shopping with young ladies.  When we finally left and headed home, it had grown dark outside.  The large volume of cars parked up and down the street is quite common in my neighborhood, so that didn’t even raise my suspicions.  By this point I was so oblivious, that even when I saw some strange kid walking up my driveway to my front door, I didn’t think anything of it.  I thought I recognized him as my friend’s son, but just assumed that maybe they were in town visiting family and had decided to make an unannounced stop at our house.  And that’s why the first words out of my mouth when I walked in the door, arms full of shopping bags, was, “Are we expecting someone…?”

A mob of people then jumped out from around the corner and yelled, “Surprise!!!”  Now, I must pause a moment and digress a little.  If you know me at all, then you know that I absolutely hate to be startled like this.  They say that when you’re properly motivated, you will either fight or take flight.  I am a fighter.  I will instinctively lash out at the perceived threat to my well-being.  So, it is a good thing for everyone involved that at that moment, I am not a carrier of a concealed handgun.  Because it could easily have turned into the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre up in that house.  I imagine the duplicit difficulty with either trying to explain to the police how a surprise birthday party turned into a mass murder or with trying to find a way to hide twenty-three bodies in a backyard the size of small closet.

But I did not go Al Capone on my party guests, and nobody was harmed in the making of my surprise party.  The house was decorated with “Vintage 1978” signs and banners, which was much better than that “Over the Hill” crap that most people get.  BBQ from Hard Eight was piled en masse on the stove top.  And a cake shaped like a tombstone, etched with the words “Here Lies His Youth” lay invitingly on the counter.

The night was spent eating and visiting with friends and family, some I had seen a month earlier and some I hadn’t seen in years.  I did my part; wearing a giant, black Mad Hatter hat with the number 40 on the side and bouncing from group to group to chat and express how grateful I was that they had come.  It was a great mix of people, not too many, but enough.  We had a variety of ages and personalities, and we even had a band of kids running around destroying things upstairs.  I was happy that each and every one of them was there.  But the grand surprise was when my old friend SM from Missouri walked into the door.  Apparently, he had hopped a flight at the last minute, armed with nothing but a backpack of supplies, to be here to celebrate with me.  I have not seen him for almost six years, so I was overwhelmed with joy at being able to pull him into a warm embrace.

All in all, not a bad surprise birthday party.  The only downside (if you can even call it that) is that I’ll be eating BBQ every meal for the next week!  I can’t thank my spousal unit and brother enough for putting it altogether for me.