Saturday, October 31, 2009

Halloween Birthday

I had known for some time that my roommate Marcus had a birthday party brewing, although I think I was not entirely conscious of its proximity to Halloween. As the party drew closer, I began to consider more a lot of the logistics of it from my end. I had to get there from where I was, spend a minimum amount on food and come up with some kind of costume. I've been the one who shirks the serious responsibility of dressing up on Halloween before, and that's at least one social "No-no" that I won't be repeating.

Really, I didn't do anything about any of the things on my mind until around three hours before the party. I knew very well that, already being unhappy about spending twelve dollars on the party itself, I had not intention of spending more than a pittance on my costume. I had noticed a pop-up costume booth had materialized at a gas station down on the corner of the nearby major crossroads. I had some idea of picking up something cheap on my way to the party and changing in the bathroom. Luckily, I instead went to check it out right after I showered so that I could change at home. As I was browsing, a young girl came to help me. First it was "Can I help you", and then she had a recommendation: "For you we have 'Axe Murderer". She looked right at me, sized me up, and determined that to be the best costume for me. The costume was a jumpsuit plus a mask of Michael Myers from the film 'Halloween', who is known at Latino-run costume booths as 'Jason'. At a price exceeding forty dollars (for an axe murderer costume which did not include an axe) , I declined.

My back-up was a costume I had made months earlier for a different costume party. That party's directive was that we dress up as natural disasters. I was then initially at a loss for an idea until I came up with one at the last second. I bought some big blue paper sheets, cut them into waves, taped them into a wearable sleeve of sorts and went as 'Tsunami'. This outfit was still lying around yesterday, and I figured few enough people saw it the first time that I could pull it off again. This time I rigged it up with a little portable water misting system, so that I could hit people with 'sea spray'. Ultimately that never came to pass.

I was for some time consumed with trying to work out how I would get myself, costume and all, to the party a few miles down the road on the bus. I could have managed it, but it would not have been ideal. In Chicago, the El trains are flooded with costumes on Halloween. That's perhaps not quite as true for LA's buses (although maybe for LA's trains). It was fortunate, then, that my roommate came home before the party. There was the complication of him thinking he had left his wallet at work on the other side of town, so I made a couple of purchases (one necessary for his own costume) for him before he found it. Compensation would be made later.

The party was held at a fairly fashionable sushi restaurant in the Noho Arts district. I ordinarily eschew establishments that make you wait outside in the hopes that you'll be lucky enough to patronize them, but it was less an issue last night than usual. We went in and were seated, and I began searching the menu for non-sushi possibilities. I would hit on teriyaki chicken, which was fairly good. I think I was supposed to get ice cream, but was in no state to press the matter when it was time for dessert.

They put on a good show there. Music, choreographed dancing and a costumed dance contest. The last of those proved to be a highlight of the evening. It's funny how they posted signs on the way saying not to stand on the chairs and tables for liability reasons, and then tell you to stand on the chairs for the contest. Now, I was fairly enthusiastic about the idea of a dance contest, and had a strategy. I figured that the costume part of the contest matters not so much as the dance part for anyone, and this seemed especially true for me at first. I remembered a lesson about performing from a high school teacher: What matters most of all in such a performance is that you sell it, not that you have a great costume or training of any kind. I knew my only chance was just to give the dancing all I had- to really play it up in the way that would appeal to people out partying on Halloween weekend.

So initially, I didn't even get on my chair. I was not about to risk a spill. I had no expectation of making it out of the first round, because of low visibility in addition to other perceived deficiencies. The judges picked a scarecrow man, a sexy female cop, my roommate (who was doing the toga) and I. The MC said that my costume was either the most lazy or the most clever, and when I explained that I was a Tsunami, that seemed to give me half the support I needed already. He noted how I was the scourge of Japan (most serendipitous that I chose a disaster largely identified with Japan).

We danced, and I did a somewhat raunchy dance with as much energy, enthusiasm and commitment as I could muster. When it was through, the vote was by audience applause. First the MC went to the sexy cop. She got almost nothing. I was a little surprised, although I hadn't been able to really notice what others were doing. I just imagined that attractiveness would be worth more. Then it was the scarecrow. He did a lot better. My roommate got a fair amount, but for whatever reason, it seemed that everyone was behind me.  I won a Sapporo beer t-shirt.

I had a pretty good idea that I would win when a whole table began chanting 'Tsunami' before voting even began. I got kind of bashful about it. Even after the party was done, people were coming up and praising the costume and dance. One lady, gesturing with her hands, said "I love your whole... situation". A waiter approvingly noted my 'thinking outside the box'.

Once Tokyo Delve's was done, we weren't ready to go to bed yet. Remnants of the contingent headed for the nearby apartment of one constituent thereof. We talked some, hydrated with some water, and then canceled it out with wine. Once the group was fortified with new people who hadn't made the earlier party, we headed out for another bar. We were there for a little bit, and left when a manager started shooing us out at closing time. In firmly hinting that we needed to leave, he said "Let's do it again sometime", as though we were friends with him who hadn't come to bring our business to his enterprise. Perhaps if I were drunker and more prone to violence... We went back to the apartment for more wine, conversation and music. For a bit, I was picking songs off the ipod and staying out of conversation. Given the state I was in, better to stay quiet and hope that I appear contemplative or pensive rather than very tired, a little drunk and very foggy mentally.

It really was nice to renew contact with some people I hadn't seen in a while as well as to make the acquaintance of some new people. I narrowly avoided having to play a board game called 'sequence' while under the influence. I suspect I would have had a poor showing. Eventually, the party was over. Another social mistake I've been guilty of in the past is lingering at a party too long. Not this time. My roommate (with whom I'd rode) was not able to drive and so accepted our host's offer to crash there. That left me the options of following suit or finding my own way home. I preferred the latter, having never been comfortable sleeping in the homes of others. I didn't have my toiletries anyway. I was ready to walk home four miles, but was saved by a Bulgarian cellist who has only been driving a matter of weeks. She was very nice and I enjoyed talking to her on the way home.

After an hour of decompressing upon arriving home, I peacefully drifted off to the sleep of the fulfilled.

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