She Be Folly

        "Katy!" My boss calls from the copy room. His voice is muffled since there's a wall between me and him. I'm pretty confident that he's going to come ask me to look at the printer again, and I'm one hundred percent confident that I'll tell him the same thing I always tell him, it's an old model and he needs to replace it. As the only IT employee for this office, I'm pretty busy most of the time. Right now, for instance, I'm in the conference room (which is next to the printing room) fixing the presentation board. Even though I'm always fixing things, it's all easy jobs that any IT guy could do. However, these office weirdos couldn’t tell the difference between a USB cable and a phone cord to save their lives.

              A muffled bang returns my attention to the room next door (more specifically, the wall in between). I know from past experiences that Jim, the office's boss, and consequently, since I work in this office, my boss as well, just kicked the printer with his foot. This happens about once a week. Once a week, the printer crashes (because it's old as anything), and once a week I have to go fix it. Not once has Jim taken my advice to replace it. Honestly, I think he forgets. He's close to sixty years old and in his words, "not even close to retiring!" So I have a lot more printer fixing in my future.

              "Katy!" Jim yells again. I sigh and stand up, heading toward the door. When I walk the two steps it takes to get to the room next door, and see Jim at the desk, sipping his coffee, I'm not surprised. Is kicking the printer doesn't work, he just gives up and calls me.

"What's up, Jim?" I ask this as politely as I can manage, but it still comes out with a tiny bitterness to it.

He looks sheepishly into his coffee while he answers. "The printer's broken again," he mumbles.

I sigh before getting to work. Jim stays, which is unusual for him. He usually leaves once he tells me to fix it.

"Listen, Katy." Uh oh. This doesn't sound good.

"Yeah?" I feign obliviousness.

"During the meeting on Friday, we, the whole office, came to an agreement."My heart is pounding in my ears, bursting with dread. However, instead of resignation in his eyes, there's a twinkle. He looks at me and beams. "We wanted to invite you to our April Fools ' Day party."

Oh, right, this office finds the need to celebrate April Fool's Day. Even though I find it a dumb thing to celebrate, I'm still hurt each year when no one invites me. After all, I fix all these peoples' problems. Technology related, at least. Francis' relationship issues, however……. Well, she'll just have to figure those out on her own.

"Well?" Jim asks.

I'm stunned, shocked, completely baffled. "S-sure," I stammer out.

"Excellent! I'll send you the email by the end of the day. Oh, and I'm serious about that printer, it's broken again." He points to the printer as he stands to go.

              Once he's gone, I still can't wipe the shock from my face. This has never happened before; I'm just the invisible IT geek who fixes their tech problems (again, just the tech ones). Why now? Of all the years I've worked here, why this one?

              When I get home that night, the first thing I do is go shopping. Online shopping, that is. I don't attend parties very often, so I don't have anything to wear. I choose a nice peach and cream colored backless piece. I order matching heels with lace that wraps around my calves like ballerina slippers. I'm actually quite excited about this party. My phone dings and I look down at it to see that Jim kept to his word and emailed me the info for it. It's next Saturday at eight o'clock. Part of me is relieved to have a confirmation for my invite and that this isn't some practical joke. Which would've been ironic if it was, considering it's a party for April Fool's Day.

              After reading the email, I decide to post my good news on my blog. The thing about me is that I don’t have a very big social life; so this is pretty big news for me. I don't have a lot of followers either, but I'm so excited that I can't help but tell someone about it. By the time I'm done and about to go to bed, I can't wait for Saturday.

By Friday, I'm absolutely ecstatic. I go to work with a smile on my face, and a bursting heart. On my way in, Johnny, the janitor, asks why I'm so happy. I tell him only because I can't keep it in anymore. he congratulates me, but I can tell he's a little hurt for not receiving the same. I feel bad for telling him, but i'm too happy to care. Flo, the accountant, understands why I'm happy and gives me a big smile on my way by her desk.

The day passes in a blur, my excitement getting the better of me.

By seven o'clock, Saturday night, I'm ready. My dress arrived a couple days ago, and it looks great in me. The shoes have the same effect. I may not have many opportunities to dress up like this, but when I do, I go all out. The invite said it was a formal thing, and I chose the perfect outfit.

I leave at seven thirty, and arrive right on time. Everyone from the office is there. Louise looks stunning in a high collared pale blue dress. Francis is toting her new boy toy around like a lost puppy. She shows no interest towards him, and deflects every attempt of his at conversation. I feel bad for him. Unlike her, I didn't come with anyone. I'm a loner. But alas, it does not matter at this juncture.

About an hour in, everyone invited was there. I have also received multiple compliments on my outfit. However, a couple minutes after nine, someone arrives that I've never seen before. As far as I know, he doesn't work in out office. I make my way across the floor to where Jim is talking to another employee who I think is named Chie. When I get there, I ask Jim outright, "Who's the guy over there?" I point to the mysterious guy. He's pretty tall, about six feet. He's dressed like everyone else, formally. pretty handsome too, if it weren't for the fact that he's glaring and scowling at everyone in the room. Like we're ants beneath his boots. Jim looks confused, and I can tell even before he answers that he doesn't know who the man is either. "I'm not sure," he replies, "I'll go see." He starts to walk over, but before he gets there, the man pulls something from his pocket. A gun. Everyone scream and ducks away from him. "Alright everyone!" He yells, with an accompanied shot fired towards the ceiling. "This...... is a robbery! Hand over your money, jewelry, and other valuables and no one gets hurt!" Another two men come barging through the front doors, each carrying a duffel bag. They start making their way around the room, stopping at each cluster of guests. The "leader", looks around at his victims, but once his eyes pass over me, they stop. He arches an eyebrow at me, and makes his way over to me. In shock, I don't quite register his first few words. Belatedly, I realize that he's asking if my name is Katy. "Um, y-yes," I answer.

"The famous blogger?"

"Well, I wouldn't call myself famous."

"Oh, but you led us to your beautiful party tonight......"

"I-I did?"

"Of course!"

I suddenly remember what I posted last week, about the amazing invite I received for this party. I recall that I called it a 'fancy party'; therefore, I realize people could've interpreted that as the perfect place for a robbery. How folly I have been.