11/2/2009

Halloween: The one night of the year it's perfectly acceptable to wear lingerie to a bar.

Joe and I never really did Halloween. The one time we dressed up for a house party we went as the scene from "Something About Mary" that resulted in Mary's hair looking like this:

Joe slopped some goop on his ear like Ben Stiller, I wrapped a stuffed dog in gauze that Joe carried around all night and I went as the fabulous Ms. Mary. That was about as risque as I ever got.

But the first Halloween I went out with the girlz was an entirely different story. We were sluttin' it up and loving it. Ginger went as Mrs. K-Fed; Red was a vampire vixen; Ruby a naughty school girl; Roxy was a she-devil and I was a sex-pot paratrooper complete with the shortest black mini-skirt that ever was made, combat boots, fishnets, beret, aviator glasses and a jump vest, which left nothing to the imagination as the only thing under it was my black lace balconette push-up bra. My girls were pushed up and spilling out.

All of the girlz' girls were pushed up and spilling out and we looked fabulous.

Wanting to be well rested for the night's tricks and treats at Gypsy, I didn't need much of an excuse for a lazy Saturday at home. It was raining cats and dogs and the entire city was swarming with overly ecstatic Red Sox fans who had poured into the city to watch the Sox World Series victory parade. Not exactly my idea of fun, especially since I could just as easily watch from a drier vantage point because every news outlet in the city was broadcasting the whole thing.

I decided to make the most use of my time by multitasking parade watching with paying bills online and catching up on my email. Sorting through what seemed like 100's of unopened and unanswered emails (most of it crap - it's amazing how you can get off mailing lists that clog your snail mail, only to have it replaced with virtual junk mail), I came across a lonely little message from match.com

Seems they noticed I'd been away for awhile; tried to entice me back to the site, you know, to see who was new in the neighborhood.

Eh, what the hell, I thought. Why not, I've got nothing better to do.

And just like that, I was back to Match to man-surf. I skimmed through a handful of new profiles, checked out my latest winks and deleted most of them. I was still a bit leery of the guys on match after what happened with Nate (of course I checked out his profile to see if he was 'active' again; he was not...) but some of the guys looked nice. Their profiles were decent. I could myself maybe going out with a few of them, if I wanted to put in the effort.

Are you serious? Are we really doing this again? The Banshee asked.

Oh shut up. I'm just looking...

And just as I was about to turn on auto-pilot and wink back at the select few that I hadn't deleted, The Banshee bitch-slapped me upside the head.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

What?! I snapped back. I... I'm just seeing what happens!

I'm not having any part of this. You wink at those doofuses and you're on your own.

Are you threatening me? I asked, never one to back down from a challenge.

No, I'm not threatening. I'm just tellin' it like it is, She stated, never one to mince her words.

That's fine, I said, clicking "wink" as I did. I think I can handle this without you. I winked back at 3 more guys and before I knew it, up popped (I totally typed pooped first, heh) a chat window with the first guy's face in it.

"Thanks for the wink," he wrote. And with that, The Banshee packed her bags and left for her cave in Guam, leaving me to fend for myself and make one big fucking mistake after another.