Friday
3:15 pm: I leave work early to hit up Party City before the would-be Marios, Luigis, and pedophiles snatch up all the fake moustaches.
3: 22 pm: No, I’m not going as Rollie Fingers.
3:35 pm: Score! I’ve found fake chest hair that will complete my costume. But alas, it’s not the right color, so I need to find some black spray paint.
3:36 pm: I did the thing that I just said I needed to do. This store isn’t that big.
3:49 pm: No, I’m not going as Kevin Costner from Dances with Wolves.
4:02 pm: I arrive home and apply my first coat of black to my new chest hair. This is what it looks like.
6:25 pm: After a hearty base dinner of rice and beans, I begin donning my costume. Hawaiian shirt? Check. White tennis shoes? Check. Detroit Tigers hat (compliments of Rosicky Jones)? Check.
6: 33 pm: Yes, I’m going as Tom Selleck from Magnum PI.
7:17 pm: I take off in my red Ferrari (’99 Grand Prix) to nab some bad guys (or whatever he did on that show) and chase some tail (he definitely did this).
7:46 pm: Before I make my grand entrance into public, I stop off at a coworker’s house to rally the costumed troops and throw back some cold Miller High Lifes (What Would Tom Selleck Do?).
8:12 pm: I learn my coworker is a Jew. I pat myself on the back for having such a multicultural friend group and then ask him borderline racist questions about his heritage. (WWTSD?)
8:55 pm: My coworker’s friends show up. Turns out I’m starring in a hilarious new sitcom called Tall Man and the Jew Crew.
8:55 pm: One of the Jew Crew is dressed as Gay Zorro.
9:09 pm: We head to Q’s Bar and Grill to meet up with our ladyfriends. They aren’t there, of course. We are the only one’s dressed up. When Tom feels like an asshole he strokes his chest hair.
9:24 pm: Ladyfriends finally show up. I have the urge to strike one. (WWTSD?)
9:26 pm: One of them is dressed as a ghost. A black bouncer explains how her white, eye-holed hood reminds him of unhappy times in his people’s past.
9:27 pm: Ghost’s hood is not seen again.
9:33 pm: The hot bartender thinks I’m Burt Reynolds. I have the urge to strike her.
9:48 pm: Mustache #1 goes missing. Backup mustache engaged.
10:22 pm: One of the ladyfriends is seen making out with Gay Zorro. I don’t think he’s actually supposed to be Zorro but he’s most definitely supposed to be gay.
10:40 – 12:22 am: Blurry. (WWTSD?)
12:28 am: New bar with more dancing and fewer lame people not dressed for Halloween. Jew Crew is missing. Now it’s just a sitcom with Tom Selleck and some ladies. (Sounds about right.)
12:42 am: A dumbass tries to clear the dance floor so he can breakdance and I boo and hiss him from 2 ft. (WWTSD?)
12:51 am: Ladyfriend who made out with Gay Zorro is seen making out with Mormon Missionary. Good night for the longshots.
1:08 am: Mustache #2 has committed suicide in a glass of beer. Luckily I have another backup.
1:33 am: I float the idea of late night quesadillas (WWTSD?) but am overruled and take a cab home.
1:47 am: The amount of glitter on my shirt makes me realize Halloween is the only night where you can home with glitter on your clothes without having visited a strip club.
Saturday
11:11 am: Chest hair everywhere.
11:27 – 4:00 pm: Life-hating and sifting through slutty facebook pictures.
4:14 pm: Ugh I feel terrible. Never drinking again until tonight.
5:12 pm: Chipotle. Feeling better.
5:42 – 7:12 pm: Rallying.
7:49 pm: Our friend Hank Layton (I mean chef Gordon Ramsey) arrives to play NBA Jam.
8:46 pm: I put on my costume and look like this:
9:16 pm: Gordon and I leave to attend my basketball team’s Halloween party.
9:23 pm: I get pulled over by two real cops in real uniforms and a real cop car. I pee into my suit pants.
9:25 pm: The cops are also real dicks and after some scrutiny of my license and registration, they inform me they pulled me over because my “plates weren’t coming back, but they are now, so you can go.”
9:25 pm: The real reason they pulled me over: I have tint on my windows and a shitty car so they thought I was black.
9:26 pm: Hank and I resume our trip, fresh off that just-pulled-over high. Going to need new pants.
9:27 pm: This is not how the 1% should be treated.
9:29 pm: Moral of the story: When you get pulled over, stick your hand out the window and wave it at the cops while yelling, “Look! I’m white!”
10:00 pm: Arrive at the party. Turns out it’s one of those adult parties where everyone’s a couple and no one plays drinking games. :(
10:12 pm: Half the party is flapper girls. I feel good about my Halloween cliché article.
10:22 pm: I start a conversation about flapper girls to explain what I read on Wikipedia: that they were actually just huge 1920’s sluts. We decide, though, that they wouldn’t be sluts as compared to today’s sluts. I coin the term “period sluts.” It doesn’t go over too well with the females.
10:59 pm: I’m confused by Chewbacca’s costume. He has no hair. He’s smooth like a freshly scrubbed potato.
11:12 pm: A fairy arrives. Her wings blink. I wonder if I’m seizure-prone.
11:53 pm: I eat the last three Taquitos. They are a little cold since they’ve been sitting there since 5 pm. This is not how the 1% should be treated.
12:12 am: Karate Kid, Wet T-Shirt Contest winner, and Mola Ram from Temple of Doom take a shot of Jameson. I abstain because Jameson is for poor people.
12: 41 am: Gordon informs me that he has been time-burgled by a girl with a boyfriend. I do my best to console him. (No BJs.)
1:00 am: We’ve had enough of these 99%ers. Gordon and I leave to have some 1% fun.
1: 09 am: After table-topping some hobos, we confuse some Mexicans by bursting into their taco shop and yelling, “Go back to Africa!” By this time Gordon’s sporting a sign that says, “You can kiss 99% of my ass,” and drinking 80-year-old whiskey with a crazy-straw. Next, to the strip club to meet up with the cast of Boardwalk Empire do lines off an original John Philips Sousa tuba. After spending some “quality time” with some high-priced callgirls/Olympic athletes, Gordon and I crash a party at Andrew Dice Clay’s house and pass out in floating lounge chairs.
1:10 am: I decide to lie about my night when I talk about it next week since, after all, that’s what a Tom Selleck/1%er would do.
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Dude, It’s a Tiger’s hat.
Ahhh you’re right. Fixed now. Thanks.