He Should Have Been A Cowboy
My thought as I'm writing this post: How many consecutive days will I post before someone
First off, I have to apologize. To Beth, and perhaps to others. The bad news is: No Halloween costume pictures. We do have one rather hideous picture of both our faces, but nothing that shows our costumes. As it happens, someone at the party did snap our picture purposefully, and she even said "So you'll have a picture together!" Only I don't know who the Sam Hill she is.
So yeah, Cowboy and I went to a Halloween party. We decided to go at the Very Last Minute, partly because I'd forgotten it was happening and partly because I had no idea for a costume for either of us. Also, partly because I know very few people. But my friend K was going, and her friend C. So we went. And brought gin and tonic and limes. There were costumes, there was food, there was dancing. (Apparently, Cotton-Eyed Joe, which I only know because my kickboxing instructor used to use it in class, is a very popular line-dancey type of song. I was fascinated watching everyone. I think in another life I would have been a very good country line dancer.)
My costume wasn't original, but I stole the idea shamelessly. I wore a red dress and red cowboy boots. I dyed my hair red. Around my neck was a necklace that I adorned with several stalks of celery.
I was a Bloody Mary.
NOBODY GOT IT. No one was really curious about it either.
And no one asked what Cowboy was. Admittedly, it was a bit out there. OK, way out there. It was one of those costumes that requires an explanation. There's no way you'd know what he was unless you asked him. But no one did.
I don't know if it was how dark the party was (it was in a warehouse-type building), or the fact that we arrived fashionably late, and maybe people were beyond caring about clever costumes. Or maybe we looked sillier than we thought. I don't know.
Next year I guess I'll just be a witch.