Et tu Halloween?

Well, 2006 continues to be one of the worst years thusfar and I hoped that old faithful, Halloween, would not let me down and would once again provide me with a hilarious weekend of excessive drinking, elaborate costuming, and general debauchery.

My costume idea did not come to fruition until last Wednesday, but my hopes were high after I decided on... '70s High School gym teacher. You would think this is an obscure costume and really couldn't be pulled off, but let me just explain that I will go to great lengths to complete a perfect Halloween costume. And this one required a complete transformation.

I started with the black afro and 70s porn star-esque mustache. Then I picked up some red, white and blue head and wrist bands, and a coaches whistle, and we're on our way...now for clothing. The shirt would be easy, a simple gray t-shirt (extra tight, of course) and what to wear for pants???? Oh yeah, the bootiest of booty shorts, complete with high cuts on the side of the thigh to show off my manly legs. Sadly, they don't sell such things for men, so after a long laughing session with the guys from Finish Line at Montgomery Mall, I decided that women's large would definitely work. But we're not done yet. You gotta have the high socks with the colored stripes, and old school generic shoes, courtesy of my brother.

To ensure that everything is good to go, I do a quick trial run wearing of the costume on Friday, only to discover two problems. One, I'm gonna freeze in this outfit. And two, I have no underwear that is going to protect you (my readers and friends) from seeing more of me than you really ever wanted to. So there I am, on Saturday afternoon, in the mens bikini underwear section of Macy's awkwardly pulling the trunks out of a box to see if the elastic seems adequate to hold "everything" in place. After finding a good pair, I swing over to the athletic wear section and pick up some retro warmup pants, that I assumed I would wear to and from parties and the bars, only to tuck into my shirt as a gut once I arrive. Hell yeah, a transforming costume that never leaves me out of character...you gotta love it. Expectations are high.

First stop...my older brother's place for his gathering at 7. We stroll up there, it's pretty low key, especially with my parents and grandmother in attendance, but it's a good starting point. Sadly, we have to excuse ourselves rather promptly at 8:30 to move on to our next gathering at my younger brother's place. Yeah, good brotherly planning, I know??!!

So we walk up into there, but the lighting is much brighter and everyone is immediately appauled by my pasty white upper thighs and generally sleazy look. Oh yeah, this is gonna be a good evening. Shots are flowing now, an entire bottle of Jager is killed, I'm snapping pictures left and right and we're anticipating a 10:30 departure to M Street for a bar crawl.

And that's when things take a turn for the worst. I did not pre-sign up for the bar crawl, having never done it before. Typically I just visit my usual haunts (hey, double meaning) in Adam's Morgan and just enjoy the added horniness and outgoing feeling that Halloween brings. But, when in Rome, my friends. So it's off to Front Page. Kevin and his crew get a head start as I'm waiting to meet up with someone in Rockville when they depart. We're about 15 minutes behind them, sitting on the metro when I realize that one of the worst things has just occurred. I have lost my cell. phone.

Yeah, for those of you that have lost your cell. phone before, you know my pain. I am too shit-faced to know exactly where I lost it, and no one is answering it when I call my number. This is not good. I'm out of touch with everyone, but thankfully I actually know my younger brother's cell phone number, and they're inside Front Page when we get off the metro and discover the longest line this side of Chipotle at lunch hour.

We wade through the people to get to the ATM, since it's cash only, then push our way to the last stand that still has wrist bands, pay $15 for a wrist band and wait in yet another line to get into the bar. Now, I've been to Front Page before and this bar ain't all that...especially for this kind of line. But, remember, when in Rome. We finally make it to the front of the line, when what do you know? The rest of the group is starting to leave. What!!??? Yeah, they're moving on to the next bar. You're kidding me??!!! We're outnumbered, and the Caesar has made his call, we're moving on.

So we walk outside and over to Madhatter...and the longest line this side of the Fedex Field bathrooms at halftime. And it ain't moving. I am now losing my buzz, growing increasingly angrier with the loss of my cell. phone and there is no end in sight. So, I make the executive decision that we're ditching this bar crawl bullshit and finding a bar without a line. Is this a Roman uprising?? Yes, indeed.

So, we stroll past Sign of the Whale...packed. Lucky Bar...mobbed. 1223...even worse. And I give up. We're standing in line outside of Five. I am beaten, bruised, and almost completely sober. Kupe ends up bailing at this point, feeling the same anger. And it is only a few minutes later when I am stabbed by the mob of people around me and forced to retire to the metro in disgust.
Yes, even Halloween has turned against me this year. But I am not done...I will regroup for an even better 2007. Thankfully, I now have these booty shorts and bikini drawers to prepare me for next year's costume which I have already begun planning for...Jack Tripper. So, who wants to be Janet and Crissy? Oh yeah, and I did find this guy: