A Holiday for the Selfish
Halloween is the perfect holiday for all us selfish types (I include myself, naturally). Think about it: What other holiday boasts a complete absence of religious banter, no one to take time to thank or remember or honor, a lack of needless gift giving? And the best part -- knowing that no family members have to be included in any plans whatsoever.
Judging by the hoards of sweaty bods shimmying, sashaying, and drunkenly stomping up and down Lincoln Road on Halloween till the wee hours Tuesday night, it seemed that this year 's Lincoln Road party was still the perfect spot to observe and wallow in said selfishness.
Particularly if you happened to be gay. Hey, nothing bad meant by that, but credit where credit is due, nobody turns it out like the queens on Halloween.
Finding the most outrageous costumes proved to be as hard as the plethora of chiseled abs that rubbed up against me every six minutes or so (all gay, of course -- straight male and chiseled abs are never used in the same sentence). I almost think it would be easier to get Elton John to change teams than pick out a winning costume.
Not only it is physically impossible to navigate the throngs of Halloweeners -- most of whom are drunk and, therefore, either not moving at all, stumbling all over the place, or wobbling unsteadily and about to fall into you -- to actually see the bounty of dressed-up beauties, but there are so many fabulously creative cossies on display it would be unfair to name one reigning champ. I mean, really who am I to say that Ms. Diane Fossey (from Gorillas in The Mist) and the furry gorilla she had strapped to her ass were any more worthy of my vote than the six-foot two-inch man who sported fake boobs, a blonde wig, hairy legs, and a hooters uniform?
Then there was the often overlooked but highly entertaining drag ensemble, which included one giant, heavy set dude whose sheer black fish net dress was the only thing covering his package -- save for a sparkly silver thong, that is.
Women, and I'm sorry in advance, but you suck at Halloween. One more cutesy angel outfit and I thought I was gonna puke (on second thought, that pukey feeling might have been induced by large amounts of alcoholic beverages swimming in my tummy). Either way -- tired! And why is it usually the insanely fat chicks who insist on wriggling their wide loads into the skimpiest piece of lycra in the name of Halloween? Not tired, but just downright wrong! Thank God the only Catwoman skulking around this year had a slammin' bod and pulled off Halle Berry with a whole lotta meow.
The smart young chappie who decided to dress as a mammogram machine -- meaning he stuck a silver box on his head inscribed with the words insert breast here and an arrow to his open mouth -- does get a special mention for creativity.
And receiving an honorary mention this year for Halloween-related stupidity are all the folks who dined on Lincoln Road and bitched to management about service and noise levels and the fact that everytime they tried to shove a fork-load of food in their chops some drunk guy in a costume banged their arms. Could they have another table? Next year, stay home! This is a holiday for the selfish, not the stupid. -Joanne Green
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