I Hate Gorilla Masks!

Funny how memories sometimes pop into your head, unannounced and uninvited. But they do. And for some reason, gorilla masks popped into mine. None of my experiences with gorilla masks have been especially positive, and one has even been downright terrifying.

The first time I came into contact with such a mask, I was 17, and a guest at a birthday party. Namely, my father's birthday party, and as a surprise for him, my step-monstermother flew me out to where they lived and had me jump out of a box to surprise my father. A while after that, one of the other guests had something delivered to the birthday boy by way of a guy in a gorilla mask. I don't remember what he delivered, it was probably alcohol, but I do remember that he was invited to take off his mask and join the party. Ooh, he was a nice looking guy to my 17 year old eyes but I figured he was too old for me, what with that thick mustache he had. Turned out he was only 16! Funny, he thought I was too old for him, so when we found out how close in age we actually were, well, needless to say, there were a few sparks. We exchanged phone numbers and talked quite a bit, and I made it clear to him that I was just having fun since I didn't live there and would be going back the state I did live in in the near future. Turned out his mother grew up just a scant block away from where I lived and you know what? That meant we were destined to be together. Destined, I tell ya! Since when did a few phone calls equal destiny? It got more uncomfortable when he invited me to attend a school play he was in, as his guest. I sat with his parents. Seemed like nice enough folks, and hey, I could talk to his mom about where she grew up. Things got decidedly uncomfortable for me when it came time for this young man's song, and he decided to serenade me, in front of the entire school, in front of his parents - spotlight on! I used to like Sweet Gypsy Rose. After that, I asked the kid not to call me anymore, and subsequently started getting lots of crank phone calls not just from him, but from his friends too, who thought they were "defending his honor" somehow. Sheesh, I never meant to hurt the guy, I just didn't want it to get as serious as it apparently was for him.

My next experience with a gorilla mask came when I was about 18 or so, and my mother and I moved to a new apartment. Being a friendly and curious spirit at the time, I made chit-chat with the movers. Honestly, I don't even remember what I said but it was probably something stupid like, "Did you always want to be a moving man?" It was just small talk - you know, you just try to be polite to people and not act like you're ignoring them. The following Monday after the move, I was on the phone with a girlfriend, when there came a knock at the door. I answered and was greeted by a guy in a gorilla mask, holding a dozen roses. I screamed and dropped the phone, because he said, "Boo!" He laughed, handed me the roses, and left. I could hear my friend screaming, "Are you okay?!?!" through the phone I'd dropped, and I told her what had happened when I picked it up again. "Is there a card? There has to be a card! No one just delivers roses without a card! What's the card say?" she demanded. I found the card in question and read it to her. It was from one of the moving guys! And further, it said that unless he heard from me before-hand, he'd be over that afternoon so we could be together! Of all the freakin' nerve! My friend was appalled. I was scared. It was more than presumptuous. So I had to call him, and after thanking him for the roses, I had to explain that I didn't know where he got the idea, but it wasn't anything mutual; I'd just been making small talk and please don't come to my house. My friend was scared and suggested I leave the house just in case he decided to come by anyway. So I went to her house. I was pretty nervous for several days after that but he never contacted me again.

My last experience with gorilla masks came in my 30's. I was working as a bank teller after my divorce. A couple of days before Halloween, some kids came in, in costume, one of them in a gorilla mask. "Oh, how cute!" I thought ... until one of them pulled out a gun and screamed, "This isn't a joke! Hands in the air! NOW!" They say that scenes from your life flash before your eyes when you think you're about to die, but for me, it was scenes of my future without me that flashed before mine. I always thought I'd be sassy if I was ever in that kind of situation, but I wasn't. I didn't wet myself, thank God, but I did collapse in a heap on the floor when they left. I didn't cry, but perhaps I was in shock. I just sat there, listening to the other people there ask where I was. I couldn't talk, I could only sit there. Someone got me water and helped me up. I had to call the sitter and explain that I'd be late that night, but I couldn't say why. The cops came, and I'm pretty sure some FBI guys did too. We were there for a long time, answering questions and trying to give descriptions of the robbers, their weapons, how they sounded, how they acted, stuff like that. The bank president came in, and with the cops we all watched the tape of the robbery. It lasted about a minute. Believe me, it felt much, much longer. When we were finally cleared to go, the bank president - who'd kept asking me all evening if I was okay because I looked sort of pale - said, "See you tomorrow!" Yeah, thanks for the trauma counseling, whopperhole. They sent me down to the main bank after that, since they'd closed the branch I had been in, except for drive-through. About 2 weeks after the robbery, some guys walked in, holding a bag, and I froze. Turned out they had a big bag of coins they wanted to exchange for bills. That's when I learned that what I was experiencing - the nightmares, the sleepless nights, the jumpiness - had a name. I learned about post-traumatic-stress-disorder. Eventually I got over that. Eventually.

I hope my son never wants to go trick-or-treating as King Kong. Anything but that! Because I still hate gorilla masks. And I'm sure I always will.