How To Take Off Your Pants In Front Of Your Boss And Not Get Fired (Or Promoted)

"what if i can't play my song?"
"not gon' happen. shut up and drive, fool."

thoughts of dissidence often creep in from the region of my brain responsible for preventing behavior that may result in humiliation. but i've found it's best to ignore it. yeah the song was key. i had my whole routine mentally choreographed, and i was sure i wouldn't disappoint with the theatrics i had coordinated with it. i was psyched.

welcome to the jungle
we got fun 'n' games
we got everything you want
honey we know the names

flying down hai ba trung street to rendezvous with my boss and some of her friends, another annoying internal naysayer nagged me, this time to slow down. since getting a motorbike a few weeks ago, i've been told by almost everyone that i drive too fast. personally i believe this to be an oxymoronical impossibility since the bike probably couldn't reach 50 mph going down an icy hill and rarely, rarely goes faster than 25. but phuong had told me earlier that day that she didn't want to see me ever again in part because of an incident involving supposed "recklessness" (my word, obviously not hers) the night before while driving her motorbike. but i was late, and i still didn't have a name.

uhhhh hank.... something
hank spank.
nah, too masturbatory.
hank... huge.
hugo hank.
ugh... forget hank.

with a flick of the wrist i quickened the pace towards my destination.

i really coulda used another half hour of preparation, but the day was now approaching its state-imposed midnight curfew. despite texting me a final goodbye ("forget me takecare urself. u'll go american happy fun!") phuong had showed up at my house at precisely 9:30, just as she has almost everyday for the past 2 months (further explanation another time). i left the mirror and killed an hour and a half with her both cooing and accusing. then when her mother-imposed curfew arrived, she went home. "now i go to bed and you too," she said and i mock-obediently nodded my head. i only had 20 minutes to get dressed and practice my moves one last time before heading out. it took me nearly that long just to get a decent knot in my tie, and it was then that i regretted spending so much time earlier that evening shaving my balls and trimming my pubes.

...if you got my money honey
we got your disease
in the jungle, welcome to the jungle
watch it bringya to ya
cha na na na na na na na knees, knees!

i turned the corner and spotted the sign: "juice," our usual saturday morning breakfast spot or, alternatively, occasional nighttime drink spot. but i would neither be eating nor drinking anything here tonight. i walked in, greeted the staff as i walked passed them, and headed upstairs to the third floor which had just been cleared out for the party. i met teana, my boss, who immediately informed me that they didn't have the cable to hook my ipod up to the stereo. shit. no guns.

welcome to the jungle
we take it day by day
if you want it ya gonna bleed
but it's the price you pay...

the only music they had was... well, it wasn't 'welcome to the jungle.' i could barely hear it playing on the stereo and i thought it sounded campy at best and, at worst, totally buttfuckingly gay. teana asked me if i still wanted to go through with it.

...and you're a very sexy girl
that's very hard to please
you can taste the bright lights
but you can't get them for free...

ok decision time. i believe there are two ways to approach these types of situations. most people, as a matter of addressing the necessity of any given decision, have a tendency to ask "why?" as in: "why is my boss asking me to take off my clothes and dance with her friend?" however, i believe that often the more appropriate and equally valid question is "why not?" invariably this leads to riskier and more frivolous behavior which, to me, form the monumental moments that make life worth living.

you know where you are?
you in the jungle baby
ya gonna diiiiiiiiiiiieee!!!!

but neither of these approaches could convince me one way or the other so i asked myself a third question as a last resort: "what would jesus do?" and i do believe jesus would strip for his boss, especially if god was a sexy 30-year-old korean chick with a few hot friends all expecting a piece of man-meat to ogle. so i did as the lord would do and said "fuck it," threw on the aviators, strutted into the room as i declared class to be in session, and started dancing all up on the bride-to-be.

...in the jungle
welcome to the jungle
feel my, my, my... my serpentine
i... i wanna hear you scream!

the shirt came off, the only snag being a stubborn button on the sleave. then i broke a glass while chasing her around and that's when i knew it was a party. the black tie remained on while i continued to pump and girate my junk, making sure i shook my ass near my boss. i had just taken my belt off as the first song ended and one of them asked me if that was it. of course i had one more surprise left, so i waited for the next song and then went for the pants. when the moment was right, i dropped my trousers like a choir boy to reveal the piece de resistance: hot pink elephant underwear, the trunk fully filled (...with the help of a sock) and drooping down halfway to my knees. i swung it around for a little while and then called an end to it, in all, dancing for no more than 5 minutes. i said, "the name's johnny dangle. thank you, and goodnight," and made a prompt exit.

and when you're high you never
ever wanna come down, so down, so down, so downnn, YEAAHHH

i drove back home at a leisurely pace and wore a lightness of being on my face. my experiences in vietnam have reinforced my belief that happiness comes when expectations are abandoned and whatever life has to offer is taken with open arms. i felt reinvigorated and quite satisfied with everything, if slightly uncomfortable as all that dancing had made the g-string ride way up my butt crack.