Nobody got our costumes, but that’s ok. We were happy little nerds anyways.
In this house, we listen to Warren Zevon — the rock n’ roll prodigy, renowned LA curmudgeon/asshole, and singer that Gen Z doesn’t know enough about to cancel though would cancel if they did.
Because of our love for Zevon, we dressed up as two of his famous Halloween-centric songs: “Werewolves of London” and “Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner.” If we had more friends who actually listened to Zevon, we would have recruited a lawyer with guns and money for our Halloween escapades.
We walked the streets of Boulder and Denver (not Soho in the rain) hoping that someone would recognize our nerd fest, but alas. Many people asked for photo ops though, and a handful clapped and screamed “Well done!”
“You like Warren Zevon?!” we’d scream back.
“Who?” was the response we’d received.
After a while we realized people liked our costumes because they thought my boyfriend was a wolf who enacted revenge on a hunter.
In our commitment to the costumes, we got a pina colada on Pearl Street in Boulder but had difficulty procuring beef chow mein. As for Roland, I wore militia gear with a Roland name tag. (Though I purchased a tiny plastic tommy gun built for the hands of a grade schooler, I did not take it into public out of respect for our local communities who have experienced multiple high profile mass shootings in the past 30 years.)
Watching the moment someone’s brain tells them that the person standing next to them doesn’t have a head is a delight. Most people would involuntarily shout “That’s so cool!” and give me a fist bump. Occasionally someone would scowl and say “I don’t like that.” Often very high twenty-somethings would stare, mouths agape, and say “Wow” repeatedly. The response was overwhelmingly positive, and I think I might wear this costume on other holidays or…