These are the two things that dominated my Halloween experience this year. Yes, though I offered to help my son create a Minecraft costume, he decided to follow the example of one of his friends and buy a morph suit instead. He decided on white for some reason, which is fine as it shows up well in the dark while running around the streets.
As per our usual unspoken Halloween agreement, I met up with the parents of one of my son’s friends and started the party with Grey Goose vodka. The mixer available to me was peach flavored Fresca. I’m not too picky, so I slammed back a couple of these. The dad of this particular kid is an excellent host, and his job allows him travel to places where alcohol is much cheaper than it is in my state. He’s always well-stocked, and I greatly appreciate his hospitality. He offered me a glass of good scotch, which I accepted. It tasted horrible. I’m not a scotch drinker. It seems like an interesting hobby – drinking scotch – but it would be expensive, I think, for me to drink enough of it to actually start liking the stuff. A few of the peach vodkas and a white russian later, it was dark enough to get started.
Cups in hand, we shepherded the kids through the neighborhood, losing them several times, and re-acquiring them later. I enjoyed the conversation. We wandered around, critiquing the various house decorations and talking about inane BS of no particular importance. When our cups ran low, our host pulled out a bottle of wine and filled them up. By the time we got back to his house, the others were obviously wasted. I, on the other hand, have always possessed an alcohol tolerance beyond anyone else I have ever met (save one person I know of who actually guzzled an entire fifth of Bacardii 151 on a bet and survived to tell the tale). I’m not sure why I have such a high tolerance for alcohol – or any other chemical for that matter – but I’ve always found myself to be the last person standing when everyone else passes out. And I typically drink more than they do. Maybe it’s all the practice I’ve had. Or maybe it’s my hyperactive metabolism.
In any case, when it was over, I summoned my child and we headed back to the house. Trick or Treating seemed to end earlier than I expected. By 9PM it was over, and we still had quite a bit of candy that hadn’t been given out. I resisted eating it, knowing what it would do to me. My son’s bag weighed in at 9 pounds – not a bad haul, but I’ve seen him do better. My wife retired early, so I watched a bit of news and then hit the rack myself.
The hangover isn’t that bad. It usually isn’t for me. I imagine the other feel like complete shit right now. Overall, it was a fun Halloween. I can’t say I saw any costumes that really blew me away or anything. I did see one fiber-optic pumpkin that I thought was really cool. And I do appreciate the mechanical flying bats one house has strung up in their entry. There were quite a few morph suited kids. Spiderman seemed to be a favorite among the grade school set, and there were the usual collection of faeries and witches.