People who hate Halloween – and I’ve known a few of them – suck. This is truly one of the greatest holidays Americans have, free of relentless commercialization (only Hershey’s and Spencer Gifts at the mall make any money), plum full of pagan symbolism, and virtual carte blanche for every man, woman and child to splatter themselves with green makeup, sprout boobs and sashay around town. I’ll go ahead and say it: Christmas is fine, but Halloween is my favorite holiday.
Around 4:30pm in Manhattan, the freaks truly started to come out – guys on unicycles, various goth chicks, and my favorite, the “first to the party” Uncomfortable Girls who have dressed up but haven’t gotten drunk yet and feel disgustingly self-conscious. Manhattan doesn’t have the same village feel of Chapel Hill (still your best Halloween night out, for my dollar), but the mass lunacy bubbling up from under the subways is downright palpable.
After getting my wig from Ricky’s on 23rd St., I got back to Brooklyn in time for the first wave of kids brave enough to punch every buzzer on a 5-floor walk-up. Dutifully, we all traipsed down to see their costumes, which I know is very “gee I hate Mondays” of me, but ever since my brother Steve started making me robot costumes for Halloween, seeing kids dressed up fills me with contentment.
thank god we’re irresponsible and had a bunch of Mr. Goodbars lying around, cuz these kids meant business
I needed a prescription at the local pharmacy, so I walked down to 7th Ave., where the whole street had been blocked off so kids could amble wherever they wanted. Which was a good idea, because most of the toddlers dressed as Spiderman couldn’t see through the face mesh and kept running into fire hydrants.
By then, the second, meaner wave of trick-or-treaters came by, most of them from other neighborhoods, and a few of them, shall we say, a little too old to be going door-to-door for Bit-o-Honeys. They’re the kids who will probably pull an actual “Trick” part of the “Trick or Treat” if you’re not careful. Michelle called from Astoria and said she’d actually been egged. I know it sucks to be egged and all, but there’s something about the darker parts of Halloween that fills me with contentment as well (rent Meet Me in St. Louis for a good example).
my favorite costume on 7th Ave was a girl dressed as a black Converse High-Top. How cool is she?
Around 10pm, we met everyone at Jessica Arinella’s place on the Upper West Side for a perfect, small Halloween gathering where conversations could actually be had. I dressed up as Tessa or at least I meant to, but I got the wrong color hair. And my boobs didn’t move. And she’s actually pretty. In the end, I pretty much freaked everyone out and made all the guests 3% uncomfortable (apparently I looked like a successful transsexual) so I consider it a job well done.
me with Karmen Helms
My voice is shot from this flu, making me sound a lot like someone choking Harvey Fierstein, so I couldn’t even carry on decent conversations. Just sat around looking pretty. I’d show more pictures of all of us, but my digital camera fell off the top of the refrigerator, making the above shot the last picture my digital camera will ever take. It’s just as well, really, don’t you think?