Princess to Prostitue

That magnificent holiday that celebrates absolutely nothing is right around the corner. No, it’s not one of the three Jewish holidays this month; it’s that wonderfully pagan holiday of Halloween. I’m not going to pretend that I know the origins of the holiday or even care what they may or may not be. The fact of the matter is, I love candy and have always disliked getting all dressed up to prove that I deserve your parents’ candy. In fact, when I was little I never got dressed up. I was one of those kids that were always “myself” or a “people person.”
When you are little your costume is pretty cool, and sometimes pre-made by the devils at Wal-Mart. Boys are either an athlete, super hero, gross goblin or other scary creature. Girls usually stuck to the simple radioactive pink things like princesses and My Little Pony gear. My oh my, how things change.
One moment you’re an innocent little girl who always dreams of being a princess and by the time you’re in college and daddy’s not around to help you get in your costume out come the prostitutes. It’s really quite amazing, the theory of princess to prostitute. I don’t mean actual prostitute, just an excuse to dress in lingerie for a night. It is quite the show. Of course I cannot help but notice these types of things when walking around at night and think I’m in Vegas. As well as wonder what thought process goes on when picking out a costume. Sometimes it’s not strictly “I’m a prostitute” it’s something like: “I’m a sexually adventurous cat” or “I’m a scantily clad school girl” or “I’m a secretary on Casual Sex Friday” or “I’m trying to help pay for my expensive F&M education and like to pole-dance for exercise.”
Whatever the reason ladies, just be careful. Some dude is going to get the wrong idea and try to give you a treat you may not want. Mind you, if it’s Godiva Truffles, he may be genuine and a keeper. On the other hand, what’s the big deal in getting dressed up? I understand that it can be fun and entertaining, and maybe I’m a huge party-pooper. Maybe I want costumes that are funnier or make you think slightly to understand. I don’t know.
All I do know is that I want candy. I don’t want little boxes of raisins, or pencils, or fruit. What is that crap? I also want to be the first to go up to the house that has the big bowl and sign that says, “please take one piece.” Yeah, that’s not happening. Candy collecting is a competition and if my pillowcase does not weigh more than yours and give me more cavities, I have lost. So, while you are all dressed up, drunk, or working a corner, I’ll be stealing candy and egging your house. Happy Halloween.