Don’t Dress Ugly For Halloween: A Scary Story!

Ladies, this has been written for you. And, there might even be some guys out there who will find this Halloween story scary enough to make them think twice before deciding what to wear this Friday for Halloween, too.

When I was a junior in college, a few decades ago, I was dating a guy (well let’s just call him Jeff, because that was his name) who was an amazing artist. By artist I mean writer, cartoonist, and con artist. But, I’m over him. Really, I am. He didn’t scar me emotionally for life. (Note to self: make appointment with my therapist for 2 sessions this week.) He didn’t go out with several other girls behind my back while we were dating for 3 years, did he? Wait. My other personality is telling me that he did.

Anyway, what’s really important here is not my constant eye twitch or facial tics, but the fact that because he was such a good artist, we both thought it would be a hoot if he made me up to look like Albert Einstein for Halloween.

He did a great job. I looked just like Professor Einstein when he was through with me. I am not saying there is anything wrong with looking like him, and believe me, looks were the only thing Albert Einstein and I ever had in common. I was never a genius. Not even close. And, as the story progresses, you will see just how much of a genius I was not.

I don’t remember what Jeff’s costume was when he took me to a party to see some of his old friends. I was secure enough (and dumb enough) in our relationship to think that it didn’t matter that I looked like the man who defined The Theory of Relativity, and relatively speaking, I didn’t mind showing off Jeff’s handiwork. With the makeup, hair style and glued-on moustache sprayed white I was a walking art exhibit. I was performance art. I was an idiot.

Why was I an idiot? Did I ever ask Jeff who would be at this party? Did I ever ask him who his old friends were that I had never met? Wait. My other personality is talking to me again and she says I didn’t. Damn her!

As we walked into the party I immediately knew I had made a mistake of enormous proportions on so many levels. I didn’t know a soul, for one thing and while the other people at the party had on a variety of Halloween costumes, no one looked as hideously ugly as I did. And, no one had on a cuter, more adorable costume than Jessica — Jeff’s ex-girlfriend with whom he was still in love – who was now dating Dan, Jeff’s ex-best friend.

I had never heard of Jessica before and unbeknownst to me Dan and Jeff had apparently decided to bury the hatchet over their shared lust for the same girl, so Jeff suggested we go to this party. And, there I was, his clueless current girlfriend dressed as Albert Einstein right next to Jessica, his ex-girlfriend dressed as a life-sized doll. She looked like a Rockette. I looked like road kill.

Jessica had long pig tails, rosy cheeks, a big lollipop, and a very short dress on. She also wore white tights and Mary Jane shoes. Did I tell you she was about 6 feet tall and had gorgeous, long legs? WELL, SHE DID!

I, on the other hand, being about 5 foot 3 inches, was only as tall as the pretty pink bow on the sash of her dress. I was wearing baggy black pants, an old white shirt that was many sizes too big on me, a black belt, and black men’s shoes I had borrowed from a male friend. The only thing I felt good about at that moment was that my belt matched my shoes. Other than that I wanted to vomit all over Jessi’s little Mary Janes, and maybe a little on Jeff’s shoes, too.

I wanted to leave, but couldn’t. We were at someone’s house off-campus and I had no idea where we were or how to get home. The only choice I had was to make the best of the situation until I could convince Jeff it was time to go home.

Or, I could have somehow snagged Jeff’s car keys from him and managed to find my way back to campus driving his stick shift car, leaving him there to lust at Jessica. He probably wouldn’t have noticed I was gone, or cared much, for that matter. And, because I only knew a little about driving a stick shift, I would have driven home with the emergency brake on on purpose so I wouldn’t roll into another car at every stoplight. Plus, he would probably need a new transmission if I drove all the way back to the dorm with the emergency brake on. This plan was starting to sound good.

But, I chose to be the bigger man and walk proudly in Albert’s shoes. If I had made a big scene I would just end up making a big fool of myself. Oh, wait! I already had by coming to the party dressed as Albert freaking Einstein!

As scary as this story is, it ends well. Jessica left the party with Dan. Jeff and Dan renewed their friendship, despite Jeff’s obvious feelings for Jessica. And I broke up with Jeff.

So, don’t dress ugly for Halloween. You never know how much it may come back to haunt you.

6 thoughts on “Don’t Dress Ugly For Halloween: A Scary Story!

  1. Isn’t it great how hindsight is 20/20? If it wasn’t we would never be able to look back in time and feel stupid about ourselves and things we’ve done. I wore a full suit to school every day for the first few weeks of kindergarten…what can I say except it seemed like a good idea at the time. In reality it was a stupid idea that provided one of the biggest losers in school with ammunition to make fun of ME (for years) when CLEARLY I should have been the one making fun of him. (Not that I was scarred by that or anything)Naturally in retrospect, you should have driven his car back to campus, ideally hitting a few things along the way, burning through both the clutch and the rear brakes, and hopefully hitting a few things with substantial force along the way. That way hindsight could have been 20/20 for him many years down the line and he would have realized how to properly treat someone else.

  2. LOVE THEM!!!!!!!! You should try to get a column in the newspaper!!!!! P.S. did Richard know about the boyfriend prior to this little ditty or did he think he was your first boy-toy? LOL!

  3. I love this story! I swear you and I have had similar experiences only I wasn’t Albert, I was Zippo Marx. You know Groucho and Harpo’s brother? Yeup I felt like a big ole freak standing next to Marilyn Monroe.

  4. I’ll bet today, Jessica has 3 kids from 3 different men, not necessarily married to any of them — wears frosted lipstick and her name on her too-tight laundromat job uniform, cannot write or speak a coherent sentence, and is of the size that enourages her to be angling to get on the “Biggest Loser” show. So allow me to declare you the winner of that scene, no matter how painful it must have been at the time. Poo on Jeff too. It is no mistake you were Einstein, if you were smart enought to cut that guy loose! S

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