27 October, 2007


I enter the mansion, sad to be alone for the evening. My sexy pirate costume fits like a glove, and I had so many plans for my date, but he canceled at the last minute.

I circle the room, getting a good look at who's single, who's hot, and who's just there to get drunk. A leering Harry Potter makes a crude gesture with his wand, and I roll my eyes. Perhaps I'm just a bit too old for this. The small clique of men wearing the same stupid t-shirt that says "This *is* my costume" lose points for banality. The Jedi master is a little too busy explaining how he created his light saber to his two friends dressed as the Mac and PC guys to notice when I bend over to adjust my boots near them. The princesses, fairies, and Dorothy's (one with an actual puppy--what a poorly thought out idea that was) are way too perky for me.

I wander the house, passing everything from a Harlequin to Wonder Woman with no one catching my eye.

It's in the garden of the stately home that things begin to look up. I hear a bass voice speaking seductively, and a high pitched giggle. I linger in the shadows of a hedge and observe a Quarterback trying to feel up a Witch. When his hand tries to go under her skirt she gets indignant and stalks off.

The Quarterback mutters and sits down on a bench.

I step out of the shadows and get his attention by saying "I guess you fumbled that particular pass."

He looks up, and takes in my short skirt, my white poofy top, and the black underbust corset.

"Good thing it was just first down. Care to try again?"

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