Wolf on the Prowl

[Gr8chtr]

If Freud was right that life’s major tasks are love, work and play, Tyler Magnussen, 38, was earning an A+ on two of the three. Working his ass off day and night he had pulled himself up and out of his hardscrabble coal town, excelling in both high school and college that opened up the doors for him to be a scholarship student at a prestigious law school. After a few years working as a very junior member of a large law firm, Tyler secured a position as the in-house lawyer for a small corporation. Corporate law in a small business could be boring but it paid well – very well – and the work demands weren’t nearly as great as being in a large law firm. On top of that, Tyler actually enjoyed his work and his co-workers. Going to work was a pleasant and rewarding experience.

Anyone who knew Tyler knew that in the “play” department he was among the top of his class. With his natural athletic ability and his dedication to improvement, Tyler was a welcome addition to any softball, flag football or pick-up basketball game. He played a lot, round the year. Off the field he used his heavy paycheck to finance attendance at concerts and theatre plays, international vacation travel and almost anything fun that struck his fancy.

Tyler’s grade for “love”, though, was a “C” at best. After a string of short-term relationships, he married at 32 and was divorced by 36. Since his divorce he had dated only three women, one who was a one-night stand and two that should have been. To say that Tyler was on a long dry spell was like saying that the Pope is Catholic.

Tyler was mulling over his status in the love, work and play departments as he walked slowly around the block to the luxury hotel where the event that he was attending was being held. It was not something that he was looking forward to. The CEO of his company attended annually this large, corporate social event. Part glitz and glamour, part fund-raising for charity, it was a huge masquerade party. Just two days ago his CEO told Tyler that, very unexpectedly, he had to visit his ailing mother half a continent away. The CEO invited, no, demanded, Tyler to attend. With no time to find a costume suitable for a party where guests laid out hundreds of dollars for their attire, he had to rely on his boss’s costume – dressed up like a wolf complete with a headpiece that covered his face from his upper lip up. His boss had chosen this guise to symbolize his company as a hungry predator looking to gobble up the competition. Tyler had absolutely no desire to push this image.

As Tyler neared the hotel, though, a little smile crossed his face. “Although I am not going to portray a hostile predator, he thought, maybe they’ll be a Little Red Riding Hood to schmooze.”

 

[Sum_Sal]

Roxanne pulled her long curvy black hair to the front as her friend added, “Alright, let’s get these wings on.” One at a time, she slipped the straps through Roxanne arms and then tightened and secured them onto the latter's shoulders and back. “It looks more like tails than wings,” teased the friend, who wasn’t wrong.

Roxanne chose to wear it upside down, so she wouldn’t smack everyone at the party with a pair of red wings every time she turns. “I still look like a phoenix, ya?” asked Roxanne as she reached for the gold and black wired embroidered. She finished the red cocktail dress with a pair of dark crimson stiletto, boosting her from 5'2" to 5'5".

“100%!” the helper exclaimed. “You’re really promoting for Mozilla huh?”

“Of course!” admitted Roxanne. “Tonight’s fundraiser party is filled with CEO this, CFO that. Big name companies flexing to stand out, to be creative. What’s a better way to get attention for the client and us than be a walking-sexy-billboard, ya? Besides, when do I get to dress up like this?” she asked rhetorically.

As a creative director for a global marketing firm, her job was branding, promoting, and building public relations. It wasn’t a 9-to-5, behind a desk kind of job. She liked to have fun, think outside the box, and be flamboyant. The louder she can be, the more attention, hits, likes, exposures, and market shares for her clients.

“Alright, let’s go,” added Roxanne after she donned on the mask. Her dark hazel eyes sparkled thanks to glittery eyeshadows and foundation.

The two ladies left Roxanne’s hotel room and took an elevator ride up to the rooftop terrace. An assemble of glitz, glamourous, and over the top cosplay-like party goers sprawled across the open space. Decorative lights, open bar counters, and displays of odd nit-knacks for the silent auction spread out here and there.

“I’ll get us drinks,” her friend volunteered.

Roxanne made her way through the array of items up for bid. She stopped in front of a Red Riding Hood painting, or at least an abstract interpretation. Red’s signature cloak looked as if it’s made of blood and clung tightly around her body accentuating her curves. In this rendition, Red was the dominant one. She mounted on top of the big bad wolf.

“Huh, how the table has turned,” chuckled Roxanne.

 

[Gr8chtr]

Entering the hotel, taking the elevator to the rooftop terrace and seeing the large crowd in all of their glitzy finery, Tyler had a new-found affection for his wolf costume (fake tux shirt, pants, gloves and mask). Though he did not suffer from dysfunctional social anxiety, neither was he the flamboyant extrovert that he associated with this kind of affair. And, given the silliness of his costume, he would rather not run into anyone he knew. His costume and it's full head dress made him almost anonymous.

Taking a deep breath, Tyler stepped quickly, but he hoped, inconspicuously, into the crowd. "Might as well make the best of it", he told himself. Scanning the room he realized that "making the best of it" meant good food and drink, and maybe a little harmless flirting. After all, any woman that he approached would not even be able to recognize him without him wearing the wolf costume.

Tyler went first for food and drink. Well, more precisely, for drink and food, two things he valued highly. When out with his sports teams members for post-game drinks, Tyler joined his friends in beer-drinking. But, his real delight was bourbon, unadulterated by ice cubes or water. He was quite particular in this. He recently was focused on Maker's Mark Private Select, expensive and rare except in very fine establishments. He would settle, though, for good, old Knob Creek anytime. Strolling up to one of the several kiosks dispensing alcohol, he dared to ask for his favorite. Not surprisingly, the bartender told him that they didn't have it but offered him Maker's Mark 46 instead, a top shelf bourbon that had become a hot item in 2021. Tyler graciously accepted his pour, leaving a generous tip for the bartender, even though all drinks were free. "Save some of that for my return visit," Tyler quipped.

On to food. Or, rather, watching for the food that comes to you. The passed food was not simply light fare. This was a whole smorgasbord, passed around in middle-sized bites. Tyler shamelessly took three in one hand, planning to do so as often as possible.

With his food and drink orgy under way, Tyler began to look over the crowd. "Fuck", he nearly whispered out loud to himself, there were an untold number of beautiful women at this affair. Even ruling out the ones that were obviously attached to man or another woman, the field appeared to be vast. The big challenge, though, for Tyler was that he was not all that great at flirting with strangers. He needed an "in", a conversation starter. Ambling toward the auction items, one such "in" smacked him in the face. Someone had donated for auction a painting of the mythical Red Riding Hood, in this case a sexy, assertive vixen. And, a similarly attired woman was standing right in front of it.

Trying to remain casual, Tyler pretended to be looking over various auction items while slowly approaching the woman. Making eye contact with her, as much as he could given his costume, Tyler raised his glass and said, "Hmm...it looks like we have something in common here."