As luck would have it I ran into two of my estranged neighbors, Don and Al. I had to go around them to get to the bar to order my drink. They looked and hesitated. How many tall (I'm 6'3") black hooded, blacked caped, red Masque of Deaths did they know? And, the fact that I wore the very same cape (I like wearing capes) last year might have given me away. But, Don hesitated, unsure of whom I was and let me pass without comment.
I reached the bar and thus began my long wait to order my Appletini martini. I'm standing at the bar in full costume, including the Red Masque of Death. How was I going to drink this martini? Very carefully.
I finally get my Appletini martini, with a straw. Uh huh, I tried to take a sip before I left the bar but only succeeded in getting most of the first gulp down the front of the black silky cloth hanging from my Red Masque of Death (oh, I love that name. Can you tell?)
As I worm my way from the bar to the back smoking (I don't smoke but I needed space) area outside so I could do some serious Martini sipping, I spilled about a quarter of my drink on some pour soul's head. Thank goodness I had my Red Masque of Death on. He looked at me and said "Is this part of your shtick?", or words to that effect. Now I'm down to half an Appletini martini. I needed air soon so I made a concerted effort to completely outside, past the designated smoking area to where the cars are parked.
I slurp down the rest of my Appletini martini and ask Big Bob, "Had enough?" He said he did. So, it was back to the car, make a left to Rehoboth Avenue, then a quick right before I could make another left in the traffic circle. I zipped through the circle (not too "zippy" though because the ever present Rehoboth Beach police was on duty to the side of the circle.) With the smell of a recently gulped down 2/3 rd's of an Appletini martini sloshing around in my stomach, I didn't this it a wise move this evening to take a sobriety test. Maybe some other time when the only liquid in me is ice tea or an occasional glass of water.
I take Big Bob home (he doesn't like to travel at night.) I come home. And here I sit writing about it. It was a good Halloween night but not as good as 1979. Maybe next year. Speaking of which, did the Phillies win?