The Masquerade Party

How delightful to dress in disguise and go to another masquerade party, so thought the Mountebank family. “Honey, better get a move on,” she shouted to him. “We don’t want the party to start without us.”

“Just getting the children out of the door for the carpool and sleepover. You did a great job in picking out these school outfits. I never did like the uniforms of the last school anyway,” he responded. “They looked stunning today. They are sure to make a great first impression,” he boasted proudly.

An aura of excitement filled the house as they sifted through the variety of disguises they had. “Honey, let’s go all-out this time, make it our best day yet, dazzle everyone we meet. We also only get but one chance to make that first impression, you know,” she announced as she sorted through the various accoutrements in her jewelry drawer. She had already spent way too much time in her closet, and the attic, picking out just the right outfit for the party. She was certain she’d be a big hit today.

As she dressed she remembered some of the other parties they had attended. She had not yet wanted to go to extremes in creating any special look, just enough to fool the casual observers. After all, she was younger then and masquerade parties were still somewhat new to her. But not entirely new. She remembered them from high school and at the university where they had a bit more intrigue. No, she had sufficient experience in disguising herself without being detected.

Such parties are a little like the youthful game of “hide and seek.” While it was fun to pick novel and unusual spots to hide, it was also fun to be found, and to make a mad scramble to home base before being “tagged.” She was glad she could continue to play this childish game even as an adult…she got the same thrill as she did as a child. Except now she did not want to be discovered at all. She thought these things as she put on her makeup.

Meanwhile he was having a bit of a difficulty. “Damn, I’ve worn these outfits too many times. People may think I’m poor, or that I’m just sloppy in my choices,” he lamented. “Besides, there’ll be new people at the party, and I surely wouldn’t want to look like some hick just off the Trailways bus,” he muttered somewhat to himself. He continued to sort through the variety of his disguises, remembering how impressive some had been and how they had utterly fooled everyone at previous parties. After all, he did have a reputation of sorts, and he intended to improve upon it. He finally decided.

The Mountebank couple really made a perfect pair…and they most often received the prizes for having the most elaborate, creative and disarming disguises. But in truth, they had learned this artifice from their families. His extended family was the Fibber’s from the masquerade capital of the world, New Orleans. They were of French descent, while her family, the Sleight’s, reputedly arrived in the late 1600’s from England. Their outfits tended to the most extreme, his to the gaudy, and hers to the exquisite. Together they were able to deceive even the most observant of those they met.

As these parties became more frequent, the Mountebank’s had a more difficult time in perfecting the perfect disguises. After all, it was their unspoken intent to trick as many people as was possible. Because of this, they had often forgotten which outfits they had worn and who had seen them. And face it; they did have a certain reputation for disguise to protect. What would people really think of them if they were recognized? It gave them much stress as they aged, and they discontinued some of the old parties in preference for the new ones.

“Sweetie, I’m about ready, how about you?” she said, the mirror smiling back its approval. “Almost ready, Hon” he replied, “just let me dab on a little bit of this new male musk I bought. I bet they will think I am a real stud with this stuff…at least that’s what the advertisement said would happen.”

In a kitchen rendezvous they looked over each other’s disguise in approval. “Reputation looking good,” they thought as they joined hands and walked out of the back door. After all, they had done this for years, each off for just another average day at work!

“In each walk of life each man puts on a personality and outward appearance so as to look what he wants to be thought; in fact you might say that society is entirely made up of assumed personalities.” La Rochefoucauld c.1662

Enjoy your own masquerade party today!


Bud Hearn
October 1, 2009