Tonight, my wife and I are descending upon a yearly, Halloween-themed, local charity dinner. We are going because it is for a good cause and because we want to help out, but mostly because we won Best Costumed Couple last year and we have to defend our title.
Last year we had a make-up artist turn us into zombies. We didn’t even know there was a competition, to be honest. We just wanted to be zombies. We were good-looking zombies (or, rather, really nasty-looking ones), and I’m pretty sure we freaked out a couple of people who stopped at a street light next to us on our way there.
This year, of course, we know there’s a competition. So now we feel the pressure. We have to not only be better than everyone else, we have to be better than we were last year. While I have confidence in our get-up, you never know what someone else is going to bring to the table. This is Sleepy Hollow, after all. People do Halloween serious here.
I’m going to trust that we know what we’re doing. But if I happen to see anyone better tonight, I might spill something on them or fall against them and rip their costume apart. Accidentally, of course.
Hey. It’s a dog-eat-dog world.
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