out he’d slipped in the bathroom stall and knocked himself out while changing into his costume. So no one figured out where Waldo really was until way past lunchtime. And even then, it was the janitor who found him, pants around his ankles and lying among a small fortune in loose change.
But I digress.
Seems like even more than Christmas, Halloween really brings the goofy kid out in everyone around this place. A perfect opportunity to put on your own meat dress or Aragorn boots of finely hand-crafted leather. Or what have you. And yeah, it’s kind of stupid.
But it’s kind of fun, too.
At least, it was fun. Before This.
When I do participate, I am not one of the hardcore Halloweeners who drop huge chunks of cash for a costume. Nor am I one of the Bangers of Gang; I prefer to costume solo. And almost always at the last minute, too. I’m with those who choose to phone it in on their way out the door, even though we’ve had three hundred and sixty-four days since the last time it happened to think about it. There’s always the lady wearing last year’s six-sizes-too-small red satin gown and Mardi Gras mask, shaking her saucy hooch for candy like she’s starring in “The Devil Wears Lane Bryant”, and the guy who dons a fake mustache, glued-on chest hair and shoves a summer sausage down his pants and passes himself off as Ron Jeremy – every time. They make you wish there was some sort of Purell for your eyes. My costumes aren’t that visually provocative, but I do try to be creative… which means I’ll be hot-Googling the internet the morning of, pillaging You Tube for other people’s ideas, in search of something with a smart-ass flair that only seems original if you haven’t been hot-Googling the internet recently. It also requires that no new purchases be made, since I wouldn’t have time for shopping at that point. Only items readily found on or about the home premises are allowed – but everything there is fair game. Once I fashioned a half-assed bedroom side table out of a washing machine box I found in alley, strapped an old lampshade on my head, and went as a one night stand.
It might take a second for the words to create the image.
Take your time. I’ll wait.
This year, I had enough things taking up my energy. I didn’t feel like using the last five minutes before I left for work to steal someone else’s cheap idea for a costume. Besides, when you live Halloween every day, it tends to lose its sheen. Maybe I’ll be back in the swing of things next year, and I’ll come up with something mind-blowing that someone else has already thought of. This year, I sat it out – no costume, no parade. No thanks.
Damned if those ‘Weeners I work with didn’t call my bluff.
As soon as I was in the door, every foam-rubber Spongebob, every latex-headed Freddy Krueger, every lousy Scream-faced, clown-nosed, rainbow-wigged fool I passed called out Sweet costume! or You really outdid yourself this time, Joe!
Outdid myself?
What?
I checked my reflection in my monitor as I hit my desk, just to make sure I didn’t have something stuck to my forehead that might somehow make me look like a participant. There was nothing out of the ordinary. A chill ran through me as I put the pieces together. I turned to my cubie, shuffling about in a see-thru Hefty sack full of balloons, to test my theory. “Bag of jelly beans, right?" I asked. "Clever.” And then she said it:
“Thanks! Love your vampire costume… so authentic.”
Fuck me slowly with a chainsaw.
You mean to tell me that I’ve been an actual vampire for nearly a third of the year, and the only time anyone bothers to pay attention to it is on a day when they think I’m wearing a costume?
Glad I didn’t waste my time scouring the internet.
And it didn’t end at work. I stopped off at the convenience store on the corner to pick up a few bags of candy since I was definitely going to be at home, and the clerk complimented me as well – and the bag boy! Seriously? I’m in here every morning picking up the paper and a cinnamon mocha latte and I always look like this! Why is it suddenly noticeable now that it’s Halloween? And what do you say to something like that, anyway? “Thanks, but I don’t just look