Glory hole pumpkin

Here's the thing about Halloween: I don't really care. Of all the holidays, it is by far the most righteous. There's no two ways about that. Would you like to dress up as anything you want and have all judgement be reserved? Would you like to go around to strangers and collect candy from them? Would you like to purchase an over-sized squash, gut it and turn it into a face of your choosing? Um, yes please.

But I never dress up. And I tend to make friends/acquaintances with those who are excited about dressing up and coming up with the best costume. The thing is that I love the idea part and I love watching the execution - I just don't want to be involved first-hand.

Last Halloween (or maybe the one before) I was taking the dog for a walk outside as everyone else was party prepping. I saw two people get into a cab outside my building. One was dressed as Betty Draper and the other as Joan Holloway. The first was actually a woman, the second was a man. And it was fucking spot on. I love that. Great plan, great execution.

But I'd rather be at home, walking the dog before my annual viewing of Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas with a big bowl of candy corn.

Where I'm going with all of this is just leave me alone. I don't want to dress up. I don't care. I don't even want to not dress up and then when someone asks say something witty like, "This is my costume. I'm my own twin." That was lame. That wasn't even witty. I'd rather have a beer at my desk at work all day and be going as an alcoholic. That would at least be beneficial. Offensive and over the line, perhaps. So next year, back off. It doesn't mean I'm not fun. It doesn't mean I don't have any good ideas. It doesn't mean I hate Halloween. It doesn't mean I think you're stupid (but I probably think you're stupid for other reasons).

All it means is that I'm sitting the costume portion of that holiday out. Piss off and Happy Halloween!