So here I am...a year later, in the midst of my 3rd costume change of the evening (One of them sporting sparkly sequins), considering my life's choices and debating whether killing Erin immediately after the show would cast a suspicious light on me. Oh...who really cares? No jury would convict me.
It was a year in the making. Once she wrestled me on board, the rest was pretty easy. Can we have confetti cannons? Let's incorporate a broad spectrum of staff! Do we know how to edit a moving object on video so it looks blurred? Are we allowed to sit on top of a vending machine? Do we want skits or interviews? How about both! Can Erin fit into a rolling trash can? Can Amy detonate a confetti cannon while careening across the floor on a scooter? Can Al speak with an Italian accent ("Which dialect?" he asked.)? Do you think Tyler saved the cracked windshield baseball decal that we pranked him with earlier this year? Will John agree to be our grand finale segment?
No.
OCTOBER:
Amy: "But John...picture this! Erin and I, hiding in your office. You walk in and BAM! Confetti EVERYWHERE!"
John: (not even pausing as we walked...his pace was a little faster than mine...down the hall) No.
Erin (later): How did it go?
Amy: Great. He just needs a little more time to process the idea.
DECEMBER
Amy: (jogging to keep up with John in the hallway) I've been thinking about our film idea...
John: YOUR film idea.
Amy: Po-tay-toe/Po-tot-o. Yeah...anyway...Maybe we shouldn't film it in your office...too messy...maybe we should change locations...
John: I think you're on the right track. Change locations AND actors.
Erin (later): Is he warming up to the idea?
Amy: Definitely!
FEBRUARY:
John (sees Amy waving excitedly at him...tries to go in opposite direction...she cuts him off at an intersection): Hello, Mrs. Mosiman.
Amy: John! I think we've got it pretty well mapped out! We'll film in the faculty lounge by the Pepsi machine! It's the perfect location...practically the epicenter of our budding friendship! Pure poetry!
John (walks off, muttering): I really need to start drinking more water.
Erin (later): Well?
Amy (clapping): He didn't say "No!"
March, April, and May were a whirlwind of conversations as I sought out our star (Not as easy as one might imagine) and visually walked him through his scenes. Thanks to me, John knew every nuance of his part well before his film date (That I reminded him about every day for the week leading into it).
To our utter shock, he showed up. Begrudgingly present and practically patient as I plunked my phone into his hands so he could film his own feet. "Sad, scared feet, John," I coached. "How do I walk sad and scared?" he growled, softly. "Like you're afraid that I'm going to pop out from around a corner to talk to you," I directed. He nodded. This he could do.
Shaking the confetti from his flawlessly-pressed shirt, he asked, "Are we done now?" before immediately exiting the room. "But John...you didn't get your Pepsi!" I shouted. "I'll get it later," came his faint, far-off reply. "Do you think we'll ever see him again?" Erin asked wistfully. "I'm certain of it," I told her confidently, "Did you know he has a boat?"
So there we were, hosting the Teacher Recognition Dinner, with no earthly idea about how to actually host a Teacher Recognition Dinner. "Can't we just show the video?" I asked. "I think they expect us to talk, too," Erin whispered. "There's no podium," I pointed out, striding off to acquire one. I was going to need for my hands to grip something other than Erin's neck.
Fortunately for me, I had be-friended the staff early in the evening when I insisted on helping serve the salads...using the UFO-sized serving tray to decapitate many familiar diners along the way ("Duck, Dee!"). "Yeah," said Katriel, observing my skills, "The wait-staff LOVES it when customers help." The staff was more than happy to roll a thousand-pound high-top table into place to accommodate my need for a podium to hide my hips. "Oh yeah," Katriel agreed, frowning, "I'm sure they loved interrupting buffet clean-up to re-arrange the dining room for you." I had one more request. I sidled up to the bar (I LOVE sidling up to the bar!). "Can I help you?" the friendly bartender asked. "I need a drink that looks like a drink but isn't really a drink," I explained, as I was attempting to channel my inner Dean Martin-esque hosting style. "A drink that looks like a drink but isn't really a drink?" she asked, confused. How could she be confused? I was so clear. I teach English, for goodness sake! "I want to look like I'm drinking but it'll really be water." Oh! And...I asked if a waitress could keep delivering fresh drinks to the podium throughout the event. "But that's rude," I was told. "No, that's comedy," I answered. "Yeah," Katriel confirmed, "They LOVED you."
Suffice to say, our ship wrecked but didn't completely sink.
We gamely dog-paddled our way through the show and then declared at the end, to no one's surprise or disappointment, that we would never do this again.
done. Well, almost everyone. There was one poor guy who had unfortunately sat in the front-middle and looked so utterly miserable (perfectly understandable given the evening's entertainment) that I could not stop commenting on it from the comfort of my hip-hiding podium. I couldn't tease a smile out of this guy to save my life and he quickly turned down my offer to buy him a consolatory drink afterwards. He may be the subject of my and Erin's next movie. Erin and I disregarded every affectionate and well-intended compliment. They're our friends. They have to like us. When we set out, we imagined ourselves like Tina Fey and Amy Poehler. Instead, we were more like the Swedish Chef and Beaker. Well, now we know.
"Whew, I'm glad that's over," I sighed, driving home. "I bet the restaurant staff is saying the same thing," Katriel said.
Ding.
Huh.
From Erin.
She's literally one car behind me.
What could be so import-...
Oh no.
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