Amateur Night (No NOT that type of Amateur Night)

First off, Happy Halloween! Too bad it’s on a Monday…sucky. Amateur Night is something my friend Garron refers to ,mostly pertaining to New Years Eve, but in my case this past Saturday the Amateur Night reference pertained  to my complete inability to ride a 2 ton beach cruiser dressed like Bernie all from SE to NE, loops in NE then all the way back to SE. I had a blast being able to hit four parties in one night and throughout the ride I noticed all the other parties that could have been crashed.

However, I felt like the fat kid in PE...last in line, heaving and tennis grunting up hills. Periodically stopping so that my heart beat would stop pulsating through every limb in my body. I felt like crap making my BF wait up for me…but I had no other choice but to fight threw the impeding heart attack and keep up. I mean hell, I had already pep talked the shit out of myself earlier with choice phrases like “You can do this, it just one night of bike riding!” “You know you will kick yourself if you don’t go!” “You do the elliptical for an hour at the gym, what could a trip to NE do?”

I’ll tell you what it did. Charlie horse times a million, I felt like my knee caps where excreting ooze that was whispering “fuck you Hallie.” The thought of going up or down a flight of stairs was on par with envisioning falling off a cliff in an unsafe car. My bestie was a bottle of IB Profen yesterday and I probably won’t go the gym again, at least until my legs feel like they were not beat up by a bar of soap in a tube sock.

Some of my favorite costumes I saw throughout the night were: Captain Crunch, Wayne and Garth (2 sets!), Amy Winehouse (only because it was being rocked by a large lumberjack type fellow) there was a good Bettleguise, a  Gallagher/watermelon combo and a creation called “zipperface.”

Some of the worst costumes of the night: Slutty beer wench, Slutty cop, Dead Hooker, and pretty much any costume that allowed a girl to use the universal excuse of Halloween to show off their tits and ass and not feel bad about it. However, they should feel bad, because at this point they should know that everyone is on to their little scheme and they should really just cross-dress.  There is so much more pleasure getting that “weirdo look” from men as you shop in their clothing department.  Fake Mustaches are more fun too, but they tickle the shit out of your nose, and in my case even make you sneeze a little. Ah Halloween I love and hate you all at the same time.