When you start your Saturday night with an accidental heroin
overdose, a memorable evening is already in the can. When you chase that overdose with a couple
too many cocktails, great friends and the cutting completely loose mayhem that
every truly great costume party can bring, your evening goes from merely memorable
to party-of-the-year status. The kind of party that finds you reflecting and
laughing out loud as yet another absurd moment from the night pops into your
mind, right after you kiss and hug your kids good-bye and pull out of the
school drop-off line the following Monday morning.
Saturday Morning a.k.a. A Giant Step Back:
"Honey, we're going."
"We don't even have costumes."
"We'll go up to the attic after we have our coffee."
"But your mom is here."
"My mom is fine."
My husband Jeff LOVES a good costume party. LOVES THEM! And he loves movies. Almost ALL MOVIES, especially anything by Quentin Tarantino. AND in spite of his partially Italian
Catholic roots, he does not live his life governed by guilt. If he wants to go to a Halloween party, he's
going to a Halloween party, even if his mother is visiting from Indiana and
it's her second to last night in town.
"And besides," Jeff continued to rationalize. "She'll be with the boys. She comes here to visit them not us. And she'll be back at Christmas."
"I suppose."
Man, I hope Vince and
Nick carry a little of my family's Irish Catholic guilt into adulthood.
The costume choices up in the attic at T-minus 8 hours until
party time were A. Dog The Bounty
Hunter and his son Leland from the popular cable series Dog The Bounty Hunter or B. Vincent Vega
(post accidentally
shooting Marvin in the face in the back of the car in broad day light) and
Mrs. Mia Wallace (post
accidental heroin overdose) from Jeff's favorite movie of all time Pulp
Fiction. And the decision was easy. All we needed was a new, crisp white shirt
for me and some new fake blood for both of us.
Somehow, even the syringe that Jeff had rigged to stand out of my chest
was still intact from the costumes debut performance at a Halloween party in
1999, five years after the film's theatrical release in 1994.
Now
we could spend more of our Saturday preparing Vince and Nick's Hawkeye
and Red Arrow costumes, before their afternoon soccer game.
Jeff and I stopped at a liquor store on the way to the
party Saturday night. It served mostly as a test
drive. I was very confident that no member
of our distant suburban community would remember these off-color, pop culture
icons from the mid-90's. And much to
Jeff's delight, I was wrong. Sure the
twenty-something kid at the register had no idea who we were but the two, mildly unsavory patrons we shared the store with at about 7:30 p.m. were very satisfied with
our tribute to the legendary film, almost twenty years later.
And then we went to the party.
And then we left.
About twelve hours
later.
To say this busy, working mom NEEDED a fun night out, an escape of sorts, would
be an understatement. To say that this
busy, working mom NEEDED to fully immerse herself in the character of Mrs. Mia
Wallace with the exception of substituting three vodka tonics, a beer bong, and
a shot of tequila for heroin, would of course be a gross overstatement. Literally and figuratively. But it happened. And now that the nausea has passed, it was
sooooo worth it!
My sincerest thanks to Laverne, Shirley and The Queen of
England for picking up the pieces. And
to Mr. and Mrs. Day of the Dead for creating a beautiful playground for all
manner of middle-aged merriment and misconduct!
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| Mrs. Mia Wallace with a basket of corn bread muffins, not quite in character yet but the bar was just a few steps away. |
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