Costume Party

Ever been invited to a costume party when it's not around halloween? While some guys might think "AWESOME!", I've always been kinda on the leery side and I'll tell you the reason why. The party usually sounds good when you initially hear about it. You get a call from your friend talking bout some crazy party...

"Hey dude, house party ...it's gonna be sick, that girl you dig is gonna be there, I'm sure it'll be a bender..."

But it seems your buddy always leave the most important detail last.

"Uh...oh and uhh dress like a pirate, it's kind of a theme party. Later!"

You call back real quick and say "Yo, hold up...what? Pirate? What if I don't...what I don't dress up?"

"Aw man, they'll make you walk the PLANK! See you there!"

FACK. Now the reason I don't like costume parties is not because I'm a big ol' stick in the mud who takes himself seriously...it's that I don't trust the other guys who go to the party to be as fun-loving as I am.

I can picture it now, you stroll in the house and yell "Ahoy Mateys!" and look around expecting to find a motley lot of folks looking like blackbeard and captain hook and jack sparrow, the girls all in skimpy outfits dressed like maidens waiting to be ravaged! They'll all raise a frothy mug of brew and yell out "Yo ho ho!!!" But what you will actually find is that most of the guys will be wearing a Raiders baseball cap, maybe a shirt w/ a skull and crossbones print on it, and at most one dude might be wearing an eyepatch which he'll have tired of sporting so its already flipped up to his forehead. Otherwise, everyone's in streetclothes. Meanwhile...you'll be at the door with the big floppy hat, black wig and painted beard, a plastic parrot strapped to your left shoulder and a big red penguin tail blazer with a fluffy breasted shirt underneath. You've the ol' "hook" on one hand and on the other you're clutching a toy sword n' scabbard from toys r' us. You're standing there with baggy white striped pants, an oversized red sash for a belt and big black fisherman galoshes that smell like real fisherman galoshes (a lil) bit as these guys holding plastic red kegger cups all stare at you. The girls are dressed like sluts...not so much pirate sluts or anything, they have on the regular slut outfits that they have on Halloween that they claim is supposed to be either a "sexy fairy" or a "sexy angel". Your buddy emerges from one of the rooms wearing a shirt with a pirate face print on it with a caption that says "ARRRR you busy on Saturday?" and says "Wow, uh NICE! You REALLLY...you REALLLY got into it."

You're first reaction is..."YES! APPARENTLY. What the fuck? I thought...? I thought if we didn't dress up we'd have to walk the plank or some shit like that...!!"

It turns out "the plank" is just a beer bong and you gotta line up for that thing if you don't dress up. What's funny is that everyone decides to do the beer bong anyway. Everyone that walks in the party thinks you're that weird kid that thinks Star Wars mythology is applicaple in real life and goes to those Trekkie conventions. And you realize it's just no use trying to explain that you just happened to have a plastic parrot in your house to a crowd of people wearing designer shirts from Nordstrom. All in all, it's a good time except for the fact that everyone refers to you as that "dude with the fluffy shirt". Fantastic time had by all, mostly at your expense because YOU put too much faith in fun-lovingness mankind.

This event is based on a true story...except for a few things I've decided to embellish for artistic reasons but the overall effect is that its left me scarred and bitter. I think I'm willing to take a chance again...but maybe not until Halloween.