07/29/03’s illustrious band:

Mr. Sun and the Inflatable Tiki God

Brought to you by Senor Editor’s birthday. Feliz cumpleanos, Senor!

The moral of the story is, don’t leave your office unattended around your birthday. If you take a day off or something, your colleagues might sneak in there and hang a big, grinning sun from your ceiling or set a hideous Mylar centerpiece on your desk or something. An inflatable centerpiece featuring the glaring visage of a primitive tiki god, for instance, with a bouquet of streamers in the middle. They might festoon your office with crepe paper in tropical colors and gift-wrap your mouse. They might hang up a photo of you in the company booth at a trade show, your background electronically altered to read “Kissing Booth,” with a list of steadily decreasing prices crossed out and the word “Please?” written beneath.

Of course, they might also bring in fresh strawberries and key lime pie, and they might offer to take you to lunch, too. They might even let you play with their new Sigmund Freud action figure. But they won’t make you wear the smiley-face button or the balloon hat. That would be going too far.

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