I can’t believe I spent my birthday weekend at the fabulous Playboy Mansion and still managed to be a nerd about it.

One thing some of us actors do to earn extra money over the Halloween season is play improv characters or dress up as monsters for Halloween parties, haunted houses, and the like.

I personally haven’t done this type of thing in years, but when invited to do it for said mansion, I decided to get back into it, because…

1. I would get to go to the Playboy Mansion.
2. I would get to go to the Playboy Mansion.
3. It sounded like a lot of fun.
4. I would get to go to the Playboy Mansion!!!

Everyone that ran this operation was so incredibly nice and hospitable. It was so cool to be there, and spending my birthday evening going through the official Playboy haunted house and having the crew sing Happy Birthday to me was quite special.

Up to this point, my favorite birthday moment was spending my 8th birthday at Chuck E. Cheese. Sorry, Chuck, but the mansion beats you. Not by much though, the Playboy Mansion may have a grotto, but there were no animatronic bunnies singing doo-wop songs.

I got to meet one of the Girls Next Door, Bridget (my personal favorite of the three), while I was there. Nothing much to talk about it. She was very pretty and seemed very nice, but it was a brief encounter.

Not to mention I was dressed up as Jason Voorhees at the time (Sidenote, is Jason Voorhees related to Saved by the Bell’s Lark Voorhees?)

The gig itself was really fun. Basically a bunch of invited and richly paid guests show up, we hide in Hef’s huge forest entrance and scare the attractive out of them.

I have to admit, there was a personal joy in making girls I never would’ve had a chance with growing up… or now… scream in horror as I came out in my hockey mask glory, swinging my fake machette in a Danny Trejo from Grindhouse type fashion.

That is, of course, if you don’t count the numerous times I tripped. Hef keeps his forest area taken care of well, based on the number of times my clumsy smurf self tripped over a sprinkler.

The Playboy Mansion is definitely one that will not be affected by the California fires (too soon?)

After a night of hard work, we actually got to go to the end of the party, provided we brought our own “Playboy-approved” costume (in other words, putting on a Lakers jersey you bought from the stadium store and going “I’m Kobe Bryant” wasn’t going to cut it).

And this is where the nerd in the mansion part comes in. What do I go as for this exclusive Playboy party? The one filled with gorgeous, glorious women, drinking and ready to find the next man for playtime….

Scooby-Dooby-Doo!

Here’s the big pro and big con of going to a Playboy party, or any party for that matter, in an adult-size Scooby-Doo outfit.

Pro: You will be in pictures. Lots of pictures. Women just can’t resist posing themselves hugging, holding, or humping a large-size Scooby-Doo. It makes you wonder what impure thoughts they had when they watched the cartoon back in the day. But still, it’s a wonderful feeling of instant cartoon celebrity.

Con: You will not, I repeat not, get laid wearing a Scooby-Doo outfit. As cute as it is to pose, as cute as it to even grope, at the end of the day, no one wants to wake up next to a dog. So they may take a picture with Scooby, but they’re going home with the guy in the lame Kobe outfit (sad to say, but sometimes muscles beat creativity).

But you know what, I’m proud of what I wore, because (with the exception of one guy who told me his brother wore the same thing, though I never saw him) I was an original.

Which leads me to a rule I must tell all men, particularly young white males. STOP DRESSING UP AS PIMPS FOR HALLOWEEN!

We get it! It’s funny, you’re a lily white guy dressing up in a big purple hat, matching gaudy jacket, and platform shoes that probably belong to your mother. And yay, you get to “talk black” and ask women for your money all night long. Ha ha ha, let’s laugh at female abuse.

But it’s tired. It’s done. I literally counted over 20 pimps in an hour. It’s ridiculous. Go as a Jedi. Go as a Mario Brother. Go as Wilford Brimley, for God’s sake.

Because more than likely, Wilford Brimley is going as a pimp.

Being at the Playboy Mansion was a wonderful experience, a dream many guys have that came true for me, even if it was through employment over invitation. But I’m one to split hares (punny!)

And I loved being Jason. I never felt so manly. Maybe if I go next year, I can be him for Halloween.

Or Pikachu. I bet I could get laid in a Pokemon costume… right… why can I hear you laughing through the computer?

This entry was posted on Monday, October 29th, 2007 at 12:42 am and is filed under TRAVEL & EVENTS. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.