All Hallows’ Eve
The Endless Pursuit of Chicken Fingers
Dear New York,
Nevermind about that whole have-yet-to-be-properly-drunk thing.
Dear Guy in Lab Coat at Rooftop Party,
I’m not sure if that counts as being properly kissed, but it probably depends on whose definition of “proper” we’re using.
Other parts of Halloween that I remember:
• My roommate was definitely the hottest Bling Kong cheerleader up there.
• Quinn’s Barf from Spaceballs costume was probably the best I saw all night.
• After the Bling Kong show, we went to some rooftop party in Manhattan, and as I walked out onto the roof, there was a DJ spinning and a full bar and all these hot young 20 somethings in costume, and I could see the motherfucking EMPIRE STATE BUILDING, and I felt like I’d walked into one of those wine cooler commercials where your night just got more interesting. I did my part by commandeering a bottle of vodka and, as previously mentioned, kissing a young man in a lab coat.
• However, I did not kiss Head Wound Guy. But, to be honest, mostly just because he started kissing someone else moments before I walked up. Possibly, to his credit, because he heard me shouting, “AMBER! I’m going to kiss Head Wound Guy!”
• Some other people who shall not be named did their part peeing in a church stairwell. I still love these people despite all of this. Perhaps even more now because of it.
• Ryan was the very best Pimp With Glow in the Dark Ears ever.
• Making it home and out of your costume before the sun comes up does NOT entitle you to make drunken emails or phone calls. No one wins that way.
• And seriously—no wonder Mary Todd Lincoln had such a hard time with life in general: that silver face paint is really itchy.