Today I’m going to spare you the sappy, overemotional piece of writing where I relate to everyone where I was on 9/11 (complete with a picture of ground zero or a shot of a crying fireman!) and explain how it changed my life forever. I’m sure you’re going to be reading enough of that crap on other websites considering that Americans totally lack the ability to recognize any sort of tragedy with dignity and grace, instead preferring to turn them into media fueled free-for-alls.

Instead of all of that, I’m going to talk to you about my office Halloween party which took place the year before.

Back then, I was working at a hippy dippy sort of place with a boss who really tried to promote a positive work environment. She was always throwing little pizza parties for us and scheduling cutesy after work events. At first it wasn’t half bad (Hey! Free drinks!), but after awhile, it got tedious. One can only listen to so many perky speeches about their office being the best place ever before one gets the distinct urge to ram their car into a fucking tree.

By the time October rolled around, everyone was pretty much burned out on office parties. But unlike Seinfeld, my boss didn’t know when to just let things die. She decided she wanted to throw a mandatory Halloween party for the crew. Even better, she wanted it to be a costume party.

My fellow cubicle slaves and I all groaned when we heard the news.

“That’s it!” Caleb yelled, “This shit has got to end! I’m not taking this anymore!”

We all clicked our tongues sympathetically, but as far as we could see, there was nothing Caleb could do. After all, the party was mandatory. And our boss was a lunatic.

Therefore, you can imagine our surprise when Caleb walked into his office Halloween party wearing nothing but a loincloth and a long, brown wig. Tied to his leg with a piece of fishing line was a plastic toy snake.

“I decided to come as Jesus,” He told our boss.

Obviously, she sent him home.

Now while Caleb’s little stunt was kind of hilarious and surprisingly effective at getting him out of the Halloween party, we were not so lucky. Not only did we have to suffer through a slew of ridiculous games, but our boss’s passion for after work events was not quenched.

A little less than a year later, some terrorists piloted a plane into the World Trade Center, killing a bunch of people and making everyone really sad.

About a month after that, a lot of the mourning was done and my boss was back into work related party mode full force. She had decided that despite Caleb’s minor indiscretion the year before, her costume party had been a booming success. So why not make it an annual thing? The only catch, of course, was that we were no longer allowed to dress as any sort of religious figure.

“How are you going to get out of it this time?” I asked Caleb.

“Trust me, I’ve got an idea.” He replied.

I thought he was full of shit and there was no way in Hell he would be able to get out of the party again. I mean, who else can you mock that is more offensive than Jesus?

To make a long story short, Caleb showed up for his office Halloween party in a three piece suit covered in baby powder. By his side, he carried an equally dusty looking brief case.

At first, everyone was confused. “What are you supposed to be?” they questioned.

Caleb brushed caked baby powder out of his eyes and announced to the crowd, “A World Trade Center Employee!”

Horrified, my boss sent him home. Even better, that night spelled the end (once and for all) of our office parties.

See? Something good can come from even the most tragic disaster.