“You have to realize, women all have one basic Halloween costume; The Slut,” my friend Bill observed as we scoped out the party. “Everything else is just a variation on the theme. Look, you’ve got Slutty Nurse over there,” he nodded to a girl by the bar, “Slutty Maid, Slutty Punk Rocker, Slutty Devil, Slutty Pussycat and, of course, the ubiquitous Slutty Hooker.”
He was dead on as usual. All of the costumes had one thing in common, they were designed to make the wearer sexy.
“I mean come on, no woman is going to dress herself up ugly,” he continued, “so the fun is dressing up sluttier then usual. The good thing is they tend to get into the part.”
“I love Halloween,” I agreed with a smile. Bill was always guaranteed to throw a great party.
“Now men, on the other hand, tend to dress up differently. You can tell if a guy is single or attached based on his costume,” he continued.
“How so?” I asked.
“Guys costumes come in two forms; ‘Attached’ and ‘Looking’ whereas all woman, married or not, dress as some form of The Slut.”
I laughed at that one, “Clarify that, oh learned one.”
“Come my young pupil, and learn at the feet of the master. ‘Attached’ costumes are worn by married guys or guys with girlfriends. They’re either humorous or designed to complement the girls costume. In both cases, they have one thing in common; they’re either picked out by the chick or picked out with her consent. The costume is designed to not be attractive or if it is, it’s so obviously part of a ‘set’ as to make it clear to the other women in the room that the guy wearing it is with her and off limits.”
“Come on!” I scoffed.
“You scoff,” he replied, “but note yon pirate over there.” He nodded to a guy by the stereo. Nice looking guy, well built, shirt open down the front showing it off. Cool eye patch.
“Yeah,” I replied, “That’s Larry. He’s married and he’s wearing a ‘sexy’ costume.”
“Really, how long have you thought Larry was sexy?” Bill asked me.
“Fuck you, Bill” I replied.
“OK, OK,” he laughed, "but that proves my point. Check out his wife, Adrienne.” He gestured to a girl across the room. Slutty Pirate Wench complete with short shorts to show off long legs. “Obviously a ‘set’. Then there’s Paul over by the couch. Fred Flintstone.”
I checked out Paul’s costume. Pretty good, but far from attractive from a woman’s point of view. Paul LOOKED like Fred Flintstone, beer gut and all. His wife Tammy was Slutty Nurse.
“Now look at us,” Bill went on. “Both single, both in the ‘Looking’ category.”
Bill was Count Dracula. Not the Dracula of the new movies, all scary and freaky looking, Bill went for the old school look. White tie and tails. A REAL tail coat, not some cheesy costume. Hair slicked back. That’s it, no goofy makeup or anything like that. He looked good.
“You’re not going to tell me you wore that because you liked the movie,” he said sardonically looking at my costume.
I came as Zorro. Hey I DID like the movie. And, I got to wear a sword. And I was dark enough to pull it off. Well, I looked good in the black pants and shirt. And the hat was cool.
“OK, you made your point,” I said, blushing under my mask. “So now let me go and do something about it.”
“Go and pollinate my young pupil, spread your seed hither and yon,” he said, blessing me.
“You’re a fucking nut, you know that?” I laughed again. Grabbing a beer, I mingled.
The party was getting crowded. I couldn’t help but be mindful of Bill’s observations as I made the rounds. I spent some time talking to Mary, Slutty Bride of Frankenstein and her husband, Mark as, you guessed it, Frankie himself. A ‘set’. Met her sister, Paula the Slutty Pussycat, looking damn good in form-fitting black lycra (I’m still not sure if she had underwear on) and her boyfriend Tom (clown – un-sexy). Talked to Barry from work (Captain Kirk). I was stumped on that one, Barry’s single and I didn’t think the good Captain was likely to get Barry laid. Eventually I realized that Barry was such a Trekkie geek he probably thought going as Jim Kirk WAS a guarantee of Going Where No Geek Has Gone Before. I mentally wished him well and moved on.
Talked to Slutty Hooker (funny how I gravitated to that one, eh?). Terri, 25, paralegal. Wouldn’t shut up and about as interesting as dry toast. Nice boobs though. Listened to her for a little longer. The boobs weren’t that nice. Excused myself to go to the bathroom and pretended not to see her when I got out. It was crowded enough for me to get away with that kind of churlish behavior. I didn’t have to worry, Captain Kirk had moved right in as soon as I stepped away. Hey, maybe she’s a Trekkie too. Live Long and Prosper, Barry; and give me a rundown on all the salacious details Monday at work.
Talked to Adrienne, Larry’s wife, the Slutty Nurse. Met her friend Nancy, the Slutty Punk Rocker. SHE was NICE. Love that mini-skirt, torn fishnets look. Nice girl too, interesting, laughed at my jokes (always a good sign). Nothing happened, Adrienne kept C-blocking me. Can’t understand why she was doing it, we’ve always gotten along just fine. At that point I realized why: SHE was laughing at my jokes too and doing that little ‘touch on the arm’ thing when she was talking. She’s a babe, blond, long legs, nice ass but she’s married. I don’t do that. It was pretty obvious I wasn’t going to get anyplace with Nancy as long as Adrienne was there and I wasn’t about to do anything with Adrienne so I politely moved on. Anozer time, Cheri!
Talked about the Pats with the boys by the bar. Sure, Brady’s getting all the attention but the special teams gave them the Super Bowl. I like Tom, but Drew was a class act.
Around one, I noticed Slutty Maid alone in the middle of the room. Cute. Short, slim, smallish tits, nice legs. Dark brown hair and eyes. French Maid outfit, very short skirt, thigh high black stockings with a lot of leg showing above the top, low neck and a little white apron thingie.
I was drunk enough by then to do something goofy. I snagged a rose from a vase, tucked it alongside my arm and palmed the stem. I walked up to her and made it ‘appear’ in my hand like Bandaras did in the movie. I handed it to her and bowed.
Laughing, she said, “OK, that’s pretty sad.” She did, however, take the rose and smell it.
“It got your attention though,” I replied with a smile.
“So does a car wreck,” she retorted.
“Hey. I’ll take whatever I can get.”
“Starved for attention? I doubt it,” she giggled, holding the rose against her chin.
“I’m Jim,” I introduced myself.
“Janine,” she said, putting out her hand.
Of course I kissed it. I was in character after all. Just a dry kiss, nothing slurpy.
“Sad,” she laughed. She didn’t pull her hand back.
“So, how do you know Bill?” I asked.