Halloween Horror Stories

I consider myself to be a creative person. But when it comes to Halloween costumes, I suck. Maybe it’s because I’m not very crafty so I can’t make a costume. Or maybe it’s because I’m not very rich so I can’t buy a costume.

Let’s review the highlights:

--Circa 1985: Dressed up like something that required a plastic costume. I have no idea what I was but I know we bought it at the grocery store and I wore it to my friend Misty’s Halloween party. I didn’t wear it long because it ripped. So instead I just wore shorts and a t-shirt and when people asked what I was, I said, “I’m a summer girl.” What?

--1988: A present. I took a box and wrapped it in Christmas wrapping paper and put a bow on my head. It was difficult to maneuver through the hallways at school but I got a lot of attention. Which I liked.

--1989: Present again. Hey, if it ain’t broke, don’t unwrap it.

--1990: Laura Palmer from Twin Peaks. I wore a friend’s sister’s prom dress and carried a book that I had wrapped with notebook paper and written “The Diary of Laura Palmer.” Just in case people still didn’t get it, I wore one of those name tags on my prom dress that said, “Hello, my name is Laura Palmer.” Yikes.

Costumes, the college years:

In college it’s all about showing skin. So once I was a gangsta—a gangsta who wore a midriff shirt and really low jeans. And then I was a hippie—a hippie who wore a really short skirt and go-go boots. Junior year I made a fatal mistake—I went for funny v. slutty.

I wanted to be a McDonald’s Drive-thru worker. I already had the headset from my job as a telemarketer for UT. I could wear my pleated khaki pants so all I needed was the authentic McDonald’s shirt. I walked into McDonald’s and said, “You know what I’m going to be for Halloween? I’m going to be you! Can I have a shirt?” He conferred with his manager before telling me no. I decided I was just going to have to go with the old “Hello, my name is McDonald’s Drive-thru Worker” name tag scam again.

Later that night Thea, Leigh Ann and I just happened to hit the drive-thru at McDonald’s. Not really a big coincidence since we did this a lot.

When we drove up to the pick-up window, the guy at the drive thru recognized me—he was my buddy from before! He handed us our food and then threw a bigger bag at us and said, “Take it. Just go, go!” Thea said, “What is this? An extra side salad?” I said, “No! It’s my Halloween Costume!”

So on Halloween we hit a frat foam party—me in my unflattering, pleated khaki pants, long purple McDonald’s shirt and of course, my trusty head set. Here’s a little quiz: Do you think the guy I had my eye on liked me or the girl in the naked-fairy costume? Yep, you all got it right. Except my mom—who thinks the answer is always me.

After the foam party fiasco of 1996, I haven’t been too into Halloween. I’m too old to go slutty, too clumsy to go crafty and still too poor to purchase!

So this year I’m going to be a door-answerer, making comments like, “And what are you supposed to be?” and “Isn’t it a little cold to be wearing that, young lady?” and “Aren’t you a bit old to be trick-or-treating?” and “Hey, don’t litter in my mulch, you punk kid!”

And just in case they don’t know who I am, I’ll wear a name tag that says, “Hello, my name is dorky suburban lady” but I refuse to wear those pleated khaki pants.


Baby Charlie (the lobster) and friends dressed up for Halloween. Ah, to be six months old and have no clue what you're wearing. They all look a little suspicious though, don't ya think?