We Tell it Like It Is

In the spirit of this week's spooky holiday, I thought I'd share my favorite Halloween story with all of you. For those of you that know me well, (I may have mentioned this before) for much of my life, I have been incredibly susceptible to extraordinary occurrences and prone to embarrassing moments. I have no shame and find enjoyment out of sharing these experiences as it reminds us all of how human we are. Warning: if you think of me as a poised, proper, & professional person and would like to keep it that way, please stop reading at this point.

Halloween 1999. Pete & I were crazy 24 year olds anticipating a big costume bash at our friend Erik's house. For some reason, I was hellbent on dressing up as Super Girl that year. Apparently, so was the rest of the female population in the Twin Cities, because every store seemed to be sold out of Super Girl costumes. I was determined and I probably visited a dozen stores until I finally came across one. However, I soon realized my good fortune wasn't really that good. It was a child's costume. A body suit fit for a 4 foot tall Super Girl. The creative & saavy gal that I am, I purchased it anyhow; thinking I could do something with it. And did I ever!

Halloween night arrived and I must say, I was very proud of my cutting & sewing capabilities. I turned the one-piece into a 2-piece but had to purchase a separate nylon leotard to wear in order to complete the look (and to keep the wholesome appearance the original Super Girl is known for). The only minor problem I faced was when it would be time to use the bathroom, which would consist of me having to slip my arms out of the leotard sleeves and wiggle the entire thing down to my knees; leaving my upper body temporarily uncovered. A bit time-consuming, but I could deal with it. Side note: At 33 yrs old, that costume would've been in the trash before I'd deal with a "minor problem" like that. Aging = a bit smarter.

We arrived at the party ready to roll. I hadn't had time to eat prior to the party because of final adjustments to my wonderful costume, so I headed for the food table. Similar to many other parties during that time period, the host was not offering bottled water or pop...just the important things like "punch" and a keg. I didn't want to start the party off on the wrong foot and drink on an empty stomach, so I searched the kitchen for something nonalcoholic I could wash all that good food down with. Score! I found a lone can of Mellow Yellow in the back of the fridge. I gulped down the fizzy, sugar-laden liquid and moved on my merry way.

The party was just getting started, and I decided to push it along by breaking out some hot dance moves. I was feeling it; the group was feeling it; as the music pulsated throughout the house. Then, all of a sudden, I was REALLY feeling it. Feeling a gurgle & rumble through my GI tract. And you know what I'm talking about. To the point where my dance moves went from the running man to just swaying back & forth to the beat. Alrighty then. This will pass in just a few minutes, I thought. A few minutes later, I decided I'd better visit the bathroom. I puckered up and made my way to the best bathroom in the house...located in the basement away from the party. I annoyingly removed my costume & did my duty. Glad it hit me early on so I could get it over and done with and party the night away.

I returned to my spot on the makeshift dance floor only to have the feeling reappear minutes later. Are you kidding me? I waited again for the feeling to pass, however, people around me started to question the beads of sweat under my nose and the pasty white complexion. I began to shake. Another visit to the bathroom was inevitable. I ran back to my safe haven downstairs only to find to my horrific dismay that there was a LINE. A line! I frantically ran back upstairs and gained sight of my last resort: the bathroom right in the middle of the party. It would smell and it could be noisy and everyone will know its me. But, the room was empty and the gurgling was boiling over. I  quickly went in and closed the door. I peeled the leotard off my clammy body and sat for 10 minutes wondering what the hell was in that dip I ate earlier. 10 minutes didn't seem to make a difference. I knew the job wasn't done and I suspected a line was forming outside of my bathroom now too. And, of course, somebody knocked on the door. Good grief, what could I do? I needed to get out of there...but really out of there. Like I needed to finish this job someplace else. In the comfort of my own home. Ok, I needed to just make a fast move. I got up and tried to get my leotard back on. Note to everyone: nylon + sweaty body = no go. Couldn't get the darn thing pulled up; and shaking like a leaf didn't help it any. In desperation, I wrapped my red cape around myself and took a quick look in the mirror. Blue eye shadow mixed with perspiration dripped down my face. I held my breath and got ready to make the run. I grabbed the door knob, turned it and pulled. And pulled. And pulled. Seriously. And pulled. "Get me out of here!" I yelled like an absolute psycho. The door had jammed.

After slamming his body against the door about 5 times, I met a vampire cowboy on the other side... but all he saw was a streak of blue & red disappear out the door and into the night...a red cape blowing in the wind with a not-so-fresh trail behind her. Faster than a speeding bullet, I was on my way home; leaving my husband confused as he stood in his Globetrotters uniform and black afro wig.