A Night with Sasquatch
My boss, a Mr. Giles Catapano, requested my attendance at a company fundraiser. He told me it was a costume party and that all of his "important" employees were expected to attend. I'll admit that I was flattered to be considered "important" to him. I jotted down the word "important" on a hot pink post it note. I stuck it to my bathroom mirror as a morale booster, an affirmation, a small gesture to remind myself that I had worth, that my existence mattered.
My relationship with Mr. Catapano has had its ups and downs in my three long years working there. He often makes me uneasy with mixed messages that I sometimes let undermine my confidence. I don't know if it's a power trip thing, or what, but it does fuck with my head. In lieu of his invitation and my insecurities around our relationship I wanted to impress him with whatever I was going to wear. I wanted to look good. Despite this desire my mind labored to come up with ideas and I was, underneath my stoic facade, a bit peeved that my hoped for relaxing weekend was being undermined by a mandatory company party. I had a nervous tension in my belly. On top of that I hate dressing up, it just isn't my thing and this was exacerbating my somewhat frazzled nerves. I'm not a creative guy. I don't like costume parties. I'm a bit shy and, at my age, it all felt juvenile.
My palms began to sweat. In my quiet desperation I decided to explore my storage area which was in the carpark of my apartment building. I knew that I had nothing so far as a costume was concerned. I hate extraneous possessions, I'm frugal. I run a tight ship. My storage was meager and practical, no costumes. My only hope was that, about a year ago, the landlord, a swarthy but decent man by the name of Mr. Brigg, had told me that a previous tenant, who went by the name Ferny, had broken contract and moved out hastily. Mr. Brigg had some dark suspicions about his quick departure adding angrily that the man was a worthless, drug infested creep who never paid rent on time and made many of the other tenants anxious. I vaguely remembered him. He went on to tell me that Ferny had left some of his belongings in storage and that he planned to get rid of them. Mr. Brigg wanted the Ferny chapter done. He said I was welcome to have whatever was there but to get rid of anything I didn't want. He made a joke about me discovering some sort of treasure like on the "Storage Wars" shows. I had my doubts. I thanked him and let him know I was interested and that I'd take care of it. I did previously move Ferny's bins into my area but I had never opened them.
I wandered down into the subterranean garage. It always smelled the same, like an oil spill with hints of lint and laundry detergent from the line of washers and dryers adjacent to it. I opened the door to my cabinet and pulled out two medium sized plastic containers, the black ones with yellow tops, everybody knows those things. I opened the first one only to find odd stationary with illegible scribblings and doodles on them. Underneath that I found some women's under garments, lots of them. They reeked of cheap perfume and many appeared to be soiled in the crotch. Ferny was creepier than I thought. I fought off the dark urge to examine them more closely. I put them back, along with the eerie stationary, and sealed the container. I opened the next one. On top I found a couple of authentic Indonesian sarongs folded neatly. They had beautiful patterns and were very soft to the touch. I removed them. My excitement was then piqued by the sight of what appeared to be fur. I touched it warily. It felt real. I reached down further and pulled whatever it was out. It was quite heavy and I immediately realized that it was an animal suit of some sort. A gorilla? Instantly, I was intrigued. Lo and behold it was a fucking costume! What kind of crazy luck? I couldn't believe it. It looked to be about my size. It was then I saw a lifelike mask lying on the bottom of the container. It wasn't a gorilla. It appeared to be more of a Bigfoot face, a Sasquatch. Jesus! I felt like I had struck gold. There was no terrible scent to it, just a little musty. It wasn't gross. Could I wear such a thing? To a company party? I inspected the suit momentarily and then, deciding I'd be a fool not to use it, put it in a good sized trash bag. The last thing I wanted to do was get caught by one of the other tenants carrying such a strange and childish thing. What would they think? Appearances and facades are important to me. I like to be seen as a normal guy with no suspicious quirks. My whole life I've gone overboard to maintain that. I think it has to do with being raised by a narcissistic mother in a house where everything looked good but nothing ever felt good. Growing up like that turned me into a man that always presents a fine exterior while, in reality, deep down, I constantly wonder if all is right and okay in the world.
I cleaned up the bins and locked my storage cabinet. The underwear and the stationary had to go. They didn't fit my facade. I would have to dispose of them another time. I retreated to my apartment. The party was scheduled to begin at six o'clock and that time was quickly approaching. I normally walk to work and it was my plan to walk there tonight. Proximity to my job is one of the main reasons I had rented this apartment, it simplifies my life greatly. The route I take each day begins as city but then cuts through a natural area that connects to a business park where my office is. It's soothing to walk through the trees and nature before spending the rest of the day under fluorescent lights. I laughed to myself at the thought of any unfortunate souls I might encounter on my way there. Seeing a Bigfoot walking through the nature trails could be traumatizing. It intrigued me. I started to feel good about it. A little raucous anonymity and adventure might be just the excitement my recently lackluster life was craving. It would be good to step out of my usual mundane routine.
I decided it would be fun to get high, you know, smoke a bowl, shower, have a drink and then set off for the party. I began to get excited. I smoked, showered, and then made a stiff drink of tequila, lime and maple syrup with a bit of ice. I guzzled it down and then put on the suit. Luckily, being early fall, the weather wasn't hot. It was a temperate day, perfect for wearing a Big Foot suit. I tried the costume on and was relieved to find that it was quite comfortable. It had a faux silk lining and a discreet zipper running up the front that remained hidden by fur when fully engaged. I put on the mask which wasn't quite as comfortable as the suit but not as stuffy as I had feared. My vision through the eyeholes was clear and decent. I stepped in front of a full length mirror, my brain now swamped by marijuana and the slight courage of tequila, I looked amazing. All in all it was frighteningly realistic. I began to fantasize about being the hit of the party as I a primped and preened in front of the mirror. The suit made me look big, ripped really, like a primate super hero. I decided to have one more drink, one more toke, and then I would begin the daunting, twenty minute walk to the party.
After another puff and guzzle I put my mask back on. I howled at my reflection in the mirror. I looked stunning. I couldn't stop laughing. I looked at the clock and realized that if I left now I would be about ten minutes late. That seemed perfect. A Big Foot would never be punctual. They don't give a shit about clocks. I gathered my keys and my pipe. The suit had large pockets sewn in that were impossible to detect. I walked outside and locked my door. I wandered down the stair well. Luckily, or not, I saw no one on my way down. What would they think?
Once on the street I picked up my pace. I was feeling stoned and slightly self conscious as the reality of what I was doing struck me. Cars honked occasionally and random people stared and moved away. My mind was swirling in a tequila soaked weed haze. I began to chuckle and it became difficult to stop my frivolous giggling. It took ten minutes to get to the nature trail and once I reached it I cut into the forest and immediately felt more at ease there, in my natural habitat so to speak. Before I knew it I was getting close and could see my office building gleaming in the distance through the trees.
My nervousness returned as I approached the party. The parking lot was almost full. Would people even know it was me? What would they think of a forty year old, single tech guy dressed as a Sasquatch? Oh well, it was beyond time for that kind of thinking. I was committed. I approached the door and let myself in. I ended up being fifteen minutes late and was surprised to find that the party was in full swing. The first person I saw was Mr. Catapano. He looked at me incredulously.
"Who the fuck are you?" He howled. "That suit is amazing. If I didn't know better I'd kick your hairy ass out of here for safety reasons!! Jesus fucking Christ!"
I chuckled through my mask.
"Who do you think it is Mr. Cat?" I replied brashly. "I'm a god-damned Big Foot. You invited me!"
He laughed and I knew he had recognized my voice.
"Fuck me standing, Chad! That is amazing. That's the best costume here by a long shot. Did you walk all the way here in that god damned thing?"
