Halloween

Last Halloween I was a drunken mess in overalls and a green t-shirt masquerading as Luigi, stumbling about Franklin Street. This year I was entirely sober for the all of October 31st. To any red-blooded, gun-toting, Bruce Springsteen-loving true American, the previous statement was pure blasphemy. How could any adult possibly go an entire Halloween without one puking on some chick in a cow costume? Surely some booze would materialize, I mean this is fucking Halloween were talking about. Surely it did not.

Despite this, Halloween in Morocco kicked a good deal of ass. Our jack-o-lantern sported a pair of rams horns, a pair of 6 foot 4 dudes dressed as Satan and a Grandmother broke it down to Aqua’s hit single “Barbie Girl” (looped twice in succession), and a spontaneous dance party erupted as the same song played for two hours. The last part was made even funnier by the fact that, being a Muslim society, Morocco tends to frown on PDA and general male-female contact. The result was thus two clusters of hardcore dancing, one of all dudes, the other of all chicks. It was the only time I have ever seen a sausage-fest and a taco-platter occurring simultaneously without any awkwardness.