Fun, I Guess

Here’s another reason I’m glad I’m not a world-famous actor or something: there I was, in the parking lot behind the Old Rainier Brewery, wearing a blonde fright wig in a Hooters girl costume, complete with 44 triple-D balloon breasts, slightly more than slightly tipsy, peeing against the wall of the building. That’s when it occurred to me that this would make a killer photo on the TMZ website, and I—or my publicist, probably—would have a lot of explaining to do.

As it was, I was able to complete my business in relative anonymity and return to the Halloween party with no one the wiser about it…until now.

So, all in all, it was a pretty fun evening of dress-up, but I am kind of glad it’s over and I can return to less elaborate costuming—as soon as I manage to remove the semi-permanent dye that Jen applied to my lips in my effort to achieve some degree of character authenticity to go along with my outfit.

I managed to achieve full-on bacchanal status quite early in the night, well before arriving at that almost tipsy stage, as I succeeded in losing my wallet for real somewhere outside the first party. In my defense, if I need one, it’s all because of having no pockets; I should have stuck the thing in my pantyhose, but that left too much of bulge.

Now I see why women wear purses, although I’m not sure I could have found one to match my white tennis shoes and orange hot pants.

And then, to top it off, there’s no getting through to the bank this morning to cancel my credit cards; no doubt the day after Halloween is among the more popular—if not the most popular—day for discovering you’ve misplaced your shit. Perhaps New Year’s day offers some competition, or the day after St. Paddy’s.

At least I’ve got an extra hour to wait on hold.