Anytime you arrive at an event dressed similarly to another guest, things can feel a bit awkward. But the Vatican is notoriously secretive. You had no way of knowing what kind of huge hat the pope would be wearing tonight. Nevertheless, you’re in this mess, here’s what to do:
Try Not to Draw Attention to the Hat
Many times, we think everyone is looking at us, noticing every flaw we have and every piece of clothing we’re wearing. But, in reality, everyone else is busy with their own life, obsessing over their own clothes and flaws. How many people were wearing a Yankees cap on the subway this morning? What about something weirder, like a Mets hat? See? You have no idea. If you act natural and don’t mention it, it’s highly unlikely other guests will even notice two people are wearing enormous pope hats.
Address the Situation with the Pope
If you’re feeling awkward about the hat situation, there is a good chance the pope is feeling the same way. Try to break the tension by finding some common ground. When you catch the pope’s eye, see if he happened to get his hat at the same place by gesturing at your head and asking, “Kohl’s?”
Stay Positive
All right, the Kohl’s question seemed to offend him (is he a Maxxinista?). Now he’s glaring a hole through you, snarling in a way that is uncommon for a religious leader. You’re worried because he’s mad at you and he has God on his side. But consider this: His movements are guided by the Almighty. And you just so happened to pick out the same hat as him. So, hey, maybe you also have the divine spirit flowing through you.
Stand Firm
You’re going to feel pressured to defer to His Holiness, remove your gigantic hat, and end this whole beef. Don’t. For centuries, the fascinatingly large and extremely impractical headwear space has been dominated by British guards, religious leaders, and women attending horse races. Now it’s your turn.
Fight the Pope
Why do you have to take the hat off? Why can’t he take his off? You have just as much of a right to wear a towering, bejeweled hat as he does. If he’s not going to drop it, you’re going to have to drop him. You can take him. He’s old. He might be God’s mouthpiece, but he isn’t God’s fists. Meet the pope in the alley behind the house, then give him a quick jab and a pectoral cross to the chin—
Wait, Hold On…
Dammit! Why did you punch an old man? Because he was wearing the same hat as you?
Shit, Okay, Just Give Me a Second
He’s not moving. This is bad. Maybe no one will notice he’s gone? Of course they’re going to notice if the pope is missing. Fewer people would notice if you went missing, though. On Monday, they’d just reassign your bullshit spreadsheets to Cathy, and nothing would change. You already have the hat, so what if you just popped on his robes?
Become the Pope
Reenter that party with the confidence and authority of the Holy See. Shoulders back, chin up, hand waving in a cross like you’re conducting an invisible orchestra. Bless a few people, Hail a few Marys, and get out of there before anyone has time to realize what’s happened. It worked for Tim Allen with Santa, it will work for you too.
Begin a Holy War
You haven’t experienced power until you’ve used the Word of God to declare war on the Venetians. Reviving this dormant war will grant you papal legitimacy and trigger classic Catholic nostalgia for the 1400s.
Make Sweeping Changes
As pope, you’re capable of pushing reformation through the notoriously stubborn entity that is the Church. Issue a papal bull that, from now on, the pope will trade in his huge, spade-shaped hat for a more sensible trucker cap with room for Bible verses on the front.
Abdicate
Leave the church, kick back, relax, and go to parties wearing whatever bulbous, ornate clothing you want. You don’t have to worry about another dust-up like this, provided the Dalai Lama hears about what happened to the pope, comes to his senses, and changes into something other than the red and yellow robe you’re both wearing.
