Happy Halloween! My favorite holiday has arrived. As a kid, I loved dressing up for Halloween and going trick or treating with the kids in the neighborhood. Back then, we went out alone, no adults tagging along. Our parents stayed home to pass out candy.
I don’t remember many of the costumes I wore as a child, though I was a ballerina for several years in a row. I’ve tried lots of different costumes as an adult. I went through an animal phase – bumble bee, pig and black cat. The pig was fun. I wore a pink unitard that I stuffed with extra padding and a pink pig mask.
A few years ago, the dance studio where I took lessons performed Thriller at the local mall. We were told to dress as dead people for the performance. I went as roadkill. I used that costume several times over the years, increasing the gore effect with fake bloody skin peeling off my face. That costume won me $100 in a costume contest at work.
The only other costume that won first prize for yours truly was also a dance costume. One of the great things about my former life as an employed person was we were permitted to come to work in costumes on Halloween. Three years ago, my last year on the job (though I didn’t know I would lose my job in less than a month), our Halloween theme was 1970s disco. My costume was a black unitard with a hot pink velvet halter top and huge bell bottoms with hot pink inserts and a hot pink wig. I was a bit self conscious in it as it was form fitting. It was also the costume that taught me to love my least favorite body part – my Cuban girl ass.
Several of my male co-workers commented (positively) on my backside. One even asked after hearing I had won first place if the costume contest judge was a male. When I replied that it indeed was a man. He then asked if I had to turn around. I replied that I did and he simply said, “That’s why you won.” Another male co-worker who was walking behind me said, “ I know why you won that contest.” Many compliments that day combined with $100 prize and I now love my Cuban girl ass.
I was always happy with my costume choices until the ghost costume disaster. One year, I was a bit stressed with work and didn’t want an elaborate costume, so I opted to go as a ghost. I thought this would be simple – no makeup needed as my face would be covered and the costume wouldn’t need any explanation. It was a simple costume and I needed the ease of simplicity that year.
I pulled the white fabric over my head as I got out of my car and headed to the building. I wasn’t prepared for all the questions my simple costume would generate.
Co-worker #1: What are you? An Arab?
Me: No, I’m a ghost.
Co-worker #1: You look like an Arab.
Me: Arabs don’t have their faces covered.
Co-worker #1. The women do.
He had me there.
Co-worker #2: Are you an angel?
Me: Angel? I don’t have wings or a halo. I’m a ghost.
Co-worker #2: You look like an angel.
Co-worker #3: You’re brave.
Co-worker #3: You came dressed as a member of the KKK.
Me: I’M A GHOST!
Co-worker #3: You look like a klansman.
Me: I don’t have a pointy hood. I’m a ghost.
Co-worker #3: You might want to be careful about the neighborhoods you drive through dressed like that.
After a few more of these encounters, I ditched the ghost costume. I was wearing a white t-shirt and a pair or shorts underneath the ghost costume, but not a bit of makeup on my face as I thought my face would be covered that day.
Co-worker #4: I thought you were going to wear a costume today.
Me: I did.
Co-worker #4: What’s the costume?
Me: A ghost.
Co-worker #4: You could have gone a little paler with the makeup.