Scary Halloween Costume

I love Halloween - Love the parties love the candy, love the costumes where women put a tiny piece of Yellow Tape over their breasts and go as, "Sexy Construction Area." Every year, there is "the" costume that half the population goes as. For Instance, I bet one to three odds, that one out of every three people is dressed as Donald Trump. Halloween '16 will go down as the Trump Halloween. No matter your political agenda, The Donald will be a popular costume. A Republican can go as "Uncle Sam" Trump, a democrat can go as "Klu Klux Klan" Trump and an independent can go as "Gary Johnson" Trump. The "Gary Johnson" Trump is basically an idiot wearing jeans, smoking pot and talking all sorts of nonsense. It is basically the same costume I wear the last 2 hours of every Halloween party I've ever attended.

Every year, there is one costume that sums up the year that was. That attire has a tiny shelf life, but one Halloween tradition that never goes out of style is the "Couple's Costume." This is, of course, the costume where lovers coordinate their dress together. Last year, brought us "Netflix and Chill." A couple years before that were Miley Cyrus/Robin Thicke dressed as Beetlejuice. And this year, you might just see a bunch of Donald and Ivanka's Trump in various throes of passion - complete with p***sy grabbing.

My wife and I always partake in the classic ritual of dressing up together. We've gone as Vincent Vega and Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction, Axl and Slash from Guns N' Roses and Roman Polanski and Thirteen year old girl from 1970's LAPD sex crimes files. I have always enjoyed figuring out what we're gonna go as, buying the materials and creating the perfect wardrobe for our endeavor. We work well together and are generally on the same page. It is always a great time that forms memories we will never forget... The same cannot be said for other Halloweens with other people.

One Halloween Evening, back in the early 2000's, a lady I used to spend some time with and I decided to match our costumes and enjoy Halloween as a couple. Actually, I should say, SHE decided to match our costumes as a couple. I decided earlier on that I wanted to go as Charlie Chaplin. I went to Goodwill and found an old, beaten up black suit, stopped by Party City to grab the classic comedian's bowler hat and then jumped in a boxcar headed to Auschwitz and whisked back to 1941 in order to get tips from the World's Most Evil Man on creating the perfect mustache for Hollywood's first big mega-star. I figured it would be difficult to meet with ol' Adolf, but he was able to fit me in the Time Traveling schedule once he finished his 11:00 with 2016 Donald Trump.

I was very excited about my Charlie Chaplin costume, but my excitement turned sour when my ex shows up with our actual costume. She swung by the Costume shop, Lucy in Disguise, and made an impulsive decision. No thought, no creativity, no fun. She got the brilliant idea to go as a "sexy" Fisherwoman and I was to be a can of worms. Yeah, that's right. Out of every outfit they had at one of the biggest Halloween stores in the country, she decided to rent the dumbest costume imaginable - A huge foam can with eight phallic pieces of huge felt popping out from numerous orifices. I knew right then and there, that my Halloween costume was basically going to be an asshole surrounded by dicks.

Now, my "partner" for the evening was going as a "sexy" Fisherwoman, which just consists of Daisy Duke jean shorts, a tight red and white checkered shirt, big fake boobs and a fishing pole. Before heading out for the Main Event, we started our evening at a house party where she is moving around comfortably, drinking and mingling with friends. All I could do was stand in a corner of the house, by myself, with no beverage because my costume was too bulky to get through the kitchen. It would've been nice for someone to grab me a beer and maybe have little conversation, but think about it, would YOU want to spend your Halloween chatting it up with a box of penises?

The House Party wound down and now it was time to head out to the biggest party of the year in Austin, Texas - The annual Halloween parade down Historic 6th Street. Since this was the early aughts, and Uber was merely a twinkle in some Silicon Valley nerd's eye, we had to use a Taxi to get around like some sort of animal. We boarded the old fashioned transportation, cash in hand and headed downtown, which is when I realized something horrifying. The girl I was with had her Daisy Dukes, her tight shirt and her big fake boobs, but was missing something - No fishing pole. You know how a couple's costume works, right? You dress together, coordinating the recognizable attributes that make the separate outfits form as one. For instance, if you are a "sexy" Fisherwoman, but do not have a pole, you're really just dressed as some country bumpkin tramp. She basically dressed as 2011 Miley Cyrus in 2003. There is no relationship to our attire, she is dressed as a truck stop whore and I am a can of cocks.

We arrive downtown and the woman I'm supposed to spend the evening with, jumps out of the cab and immediately starts taking pictures with horny strangers that think her very obvious balloon boobs might be real. Meanwhile, I am unable to force my way out of the back of Yellow Cab because one of my "worms" got stuck in the seat belt holder of Austin's finest fleet of Taxis. I finally was able to wrangle out of the vehicular vagina and begin what would be the most annoying night of my life. A close second would be the night I plopped down $12 to see "Man of Steel."

Austin residents are known for their friendliness, affability and genuine respect for one another... except on Halloween. October 31st is the one night where Austin's polite locals turn into an episode of "Real Housewives of Travis County." People couldn't be more rude, insulting and disrespectful. I am feeling down in the dumps and think I'm wearing the dumbest costume known to mankind and every other human is very loudly verifying that, in fact, I am wearing the dumbest costume known to mankind. Just imagine 100,000 people consistently telling you how much you suck. It was then that I realized what Johnny Manziel must feel like everyday.

Halloween 2003 was the worst night of my life. People filled with hatred, anger and hostility and directing it at me. I didn't understand it because I didn't do anything to provoke it. The only thing I was guilty of was looking like a bucket of dongs. For this year, I've decided to recycle that costume and parade around proudly. The night of Halloween 2016, I'm dressing as Donald Trump at one of his rallies - an asshole surrounded by dicks.