Embarrassing Halloweens (We've all been there, right?)

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Embarrassing Halloweens (We’ve all been there, right?)

2003

It was my first week at my new job, and my first week in the United States, fresh from Brazil. I became super excited when work informed me that they were throwing a party for the employees.

I went to Party City, but the check-out line was huge, so I ended up buying a costume from a small, thrift store in downtown Austin. This store was crowded too, so I grabbed this long, purple number from the  sale rack without trying it on. A quick glance assured me that it looked decent—long and purple. How can anyone ever go wrong with purple, right?

Well, one could go very wrong. As I removed it from the box just before the party, I realized that my purple dress turned into a cheap, shiny fabric when the light hit it and had a V-neck deeper than the Grand Canyon. It was tight, oh so tight. When I walked, it was like every stitch was gripping my skin. Oh, and the high slit. How did that go unnoticed?

Well, I wouldn’t be the first person to dress slutty for Halloween, right? It was a work function, but it was still Halloween. I remember all those B-movies from the States I watched growing up. Hollywood couldn’t be wrong (by the way, writing this post, I came up with my costume for this year: Self-Denial Queen), could it?

Just in case, the good Catholic girl inside me (synonym for smothering Catholic guilt) pinned the V-neck so my girls would stick together and be covered. I realized that if I walked slowly, the high slit wouldn’t make an appearance, and if it did, those black fishnets would cover my legs. Classy, I know. 

So, not having time to buy another costume (I didn’t have a car yet), I ventured to the party as Spider Witch.

As I faced the fluorescent lights and the family-oriented costume-wearing crowd, my heart froze—non-alcoholic fruit punch and tons of clowns, superheroes, presidents, and Wizard of Oz witches greeted me. Some of my colleagues gave me a once over and frowned; others offered a sympathetic half smile. I didn’t know which was worse, being judged or being patronized. To be honest, I still don’t know.

I spotted the buffet, and the table with the cold cuts seemed like an oasis of understanding, of escape, and it called my name. When food calls your name, it’s rude not to answer, so I rushed to find solace in crispy chips and spicy salsa.  Or so I hoped.

On my way, I slipped on the hem of my dress and lost balance, and BAM! I fell on my butt on the polished, lemon-scented hardwood floor. I started to move to get to my feet and felt rather than heard the back of my dress rip a bit while my dignity shredded exponentially.

I surged to my feet and cleared my throat.

“Are you okay?” a sympathetic voice asked behind me.

I smothered laughter. Oh crap! How can a slutty witch not be okay on Halloween?

Do you have any embarrassing Halloween stories to tell? Is there anything you find cringe-worthy? J Share your thoughts and good luck!