The Practical Surprise

I was invited to dinner tonight by new friends from the gym. Nice people. And it sounded like the place would be pretty good. But when they asked, I said, "I'm sorry, I've got a bunch of shit to do tonight."

They asked what kind of 'shit' it is.

"I've got to prepare for a practical joke tomorrow." I said this in the way that somebody would say they were going home to catch up on their work for the next day at the office, or to prepare for a presentation or something important. But these are not important to me. I could give a shit about work, though. Practical jokes and cheap laughs--these are why I go to the office (and to pay my rent).

But they looked at me sort of funny. "A practical joke...You're serious?"

Of course. This is pretty good. And what makes this even bettter is that I--the slacker, the joker, the screw-around, the guy just begging to be fired--am NOT the mastermind behind this joke. I believe it was my manager.

The Background
My coworker and friend is getting married on Saturday. The manager decided to throw him a surprise party tomorrow morning at a restaurant in Arcadia.

The practical joke fits the definition: a joke for a practical purpose. We somehow need to get my coworker (who, for the sake of discussion, we'll call Eduardo) from our office in El Monte to the restaurant in Arcadia without him thinking something is up.

The Joke
How does one get somebody from a government tax office in El Monte to a restaurant in Arcadia, all while thinking it's a regular work day? Conundrum.

Let me stop to say that I'm proud of my workgroup (and especially my manager) for wanting to expend so much effort on this. It's like my fear of work has spread to everyone else.

Where does one start? One has to start with getting Eduardo out of the office. Why would he get out of the office? To assist another officer.

As many of you know, I work in collections for a government agency. Some of the people we collect from are Potentially Dangerous Payers (PDPs). You don't go alone to a PDP, or you're a Goddamn idiot. The manager requested, then, that Eduardo meet at Jeb's house tomorrow morning at 8 AM to assist him with a meeting at a PDP's business. I will be there already waiting for them.

We will get in the car, presumably to go to the PDP. I assume that Eduardo will want to see the casefile. You don't go into a situation like this with no case file. No case file? No practical joke. The case file has everything: an archive, an initial summary of available information, balances owed.

This is where I come in. We need that case file, and we need it to look real. And we need the PDP to sound dangerous. Because the more dangerous he sounds, the greater our lives are at risk--and that's fun stuff!

So Jimmy Cardolucci dba Jimmy Marcino's Storage in Claremont, California was born. History on the case will show that the previous officers who attempted to collect were threatened, and repeatedly intimidated. I was thinking of adding some criminal records of misdemeanor sodomy (Does that crime even exist? And is that a bit too racy for a work-related practical joke?). There's ample evidence that the payer has unreported offshore income, and also receives income he from a business he sold to his wife for a dollar (called a transferee liability). Jimmy Cardolucci lives in a humungous house, but reports $15,000 of income per year. This type of thing, dig?

And on the way there, I'm going to pull out my tire iron from under my front seat to show I'm ready--to show him I mean business. Fire with fire. That type of thing. And Jeb's going to explain our duties: I'll be in charge of taking an inventory of all items for later seizure in the name of the interests of the Government, and Eduardo will be in charge of "shadowing" the payer. Eduardo will be told to follow him to make sure he doesn't do something like grab a weapon, or make a run for it. This is shit that we, under no circumstances, are authorized to do under any circumstances. And we'll be so dead-set on doing it, I think we'll just confuse the shit out of Eduardo.

Since the restaurant is on the way to Claremont, we'll say we're stopping in for a cup of coffee. If we do a good job, he'll be shitting his pants. And at the restaurant, everyone will be there to surprise him and wish him congratulations on getting married (or ending his life, depending on how you look at marriage).

I may wear my trench tomorrow.

Possibility of Practical Joke Reversal
I'll admit, I'm nervous about this because it seems a little strange. Why would my group come up with a practical joke, unless it's aimed at the one that fucks with everybody? I'm afraid that Eduardo is in the 'know' and I'm the odd man out that everyone is trying to fuck. If this is a multi-layered practical joke (a joke within a joke), then I'll be even more impressed.

But I have nothing to celebrate. Eduardo does. So the chances are pretty great that this will be aimed at him, rather than me. Unless my manager came up with this great ceremony to fire me. That would be fucking awesome.