I had my costume, the Red Masque of Death. Bob had his costume, a variation on Jason from Friday the 13th. After scaring the neighbors, off we went to Rehoboth Beach this fine Halloween Night. The weather was perfect. A full moon rested in the sky with occasional dark clouds floating by it's luminous surface.
I had a new appreciation of women and their clothing after maneauving myself in my car and attaching my seat belt without out tearing my long black Halloween fright night gown.
We arrived at Rigby's Grill in Rehoboth. It wasn't too crowded so we took a walk down Rehoboth Avenue to the boardwalk. Along the way we encounted another Jason.
Along the way I gave several diners at the restaurants that line Rehoboth Avenue something to remember for the evening. I stop and hovered around their dining tables. They seemed to like that. There were a multitude of smiles. Apparently everyone was in a good mood this Halloween Night.
Then we reached the boardwalk. The evening breeze was refreshing, coursing through the Spiderman type nettting on my face mask. We saw some rowdy kids on the boardwalk so we didn't stay too long. We didn't want to provide a handy target for any testostrone charge adolescent seeking to make his mark into manhood by bashing a fag. Little red warning flags were popping up all over.
Back up Rehoboth Avenue and my friend Big Bob is running out of steam. We finally reach or destination of Rigby's Grill only to find it now packed shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow and ass to ass with like minded gay guys out tonight celebrating Halloween, some in costume.
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?