So I saw the new pirate movie the other day

[ask me how it was]
"How was it?"
"It was good, but it was rated arrgh!"

It's weird, I'm never the one making plans and it was odd being in the position of party point man. Whatever, I was really geared up for going out and having a fabulous time at SoHo for Rich's Halloween bash. Tonight the Scooby gang consisted of an Indian, an old school hip hopper, a Death/Lord of the Rings-like character, Zorro, a Cowgirl, a ghetto sheet over the head ghost and a girl in a red dress. Granted things got off to a precarious start as we entered and as far as I could tell our group was one of the few in costume (which was fine, because a pirate vest/bandana is a far cry from a pair of green tights and a Santa beard), but a few quick shots
into the system and things were off and rolling.

The thing about Halloween is that it gives gals the opportunity to indulge their fantasies and guys pretty much the opportunity to ogle openly. There was definitely an abundance of talent on display. A few friends went as stewardesses, um sexy flight attendants. There was a plethora of cowgirls, French maids and fatigued army chicks. In my humble opinion the sauciest dime of the night went to the sexy Strawberry Shortcake. Hey call me a sucker, but you gotta sometimes indulge in a little after-school fantasy time.

I didn't stick around for the announcement of best costume, but my money was on the guy dressed as Turd Ferguson (aka Norm MacDonald playing Burt Reynolds from SNL's Celebrity Jeopardy.) There's comic genius and then there's the sight of a 6'4" mustachioed guy wearing a foam cowboy hat and an actual make-shift Jeopardy podium. Bravo sir, bravo.

Note to anyone: The cheesy pirate joke is the conversation equivalent of the double finger point. Don't have it be your signature move, but when it's working you're playing with house money.

Quite simply my game was on. It's like the stars aligned and I was able to talk to anyone without any sort of hesitation or repercussion. My ability to converse with people had reached a transcendent ability, not seen since my mayor-like first two-months of college.

Whatever I was on, I wish I could have bottled it as last night was more the exception than the rule. Often times I tend to cohabitat with like-minded indivuiduals or strike my holier-than-thou air of superiority that no one likes . And not that I'm a social savant or anything, but I know a few wallflowers who could really use a liberal dousing of the juice.

I think it was the combination of copious amounts of alcohol, the 45% chance that I actually worked with said person I was talking to and the fact that being able to stare at someone and say "I like your Slim Jim costume. Where'd you get it?" is a great opening line.

Fueled by my newfound devil-may-care attitude I made a point of making the rounds, chatting up two lovely Cowgirls over the course of the night in particular. One blond, one brunette. Promising because they were incredibly cute and much fun to be with. Funny because I just called the Cowgirl and my opening line went something like, "Hi it's Mike from the other night. I was the one dressed as a pirate."

Ah, those darned pirate jokes never get old.