So Halloween in LA is legendary. West Hollywood shuts down and everyone comes out in full regalia to celebrate, so WeHo was on my Halloween agenda. No brainer, right?
But here's the thing. HERE'S, the thing. I love the whole Hollywood scene as much as anyone, I guess, whatever. I mean it is what it is. But West Hollywood is ALWAYS a hot wreck, not just on special occasions. It's great, because after a long week of work, if you want to go out and have a good time, it feels like a constant holiday. But I'm a dive bar boy myself, so as often as I like to do the Hollywood thing, I like to find quieter bar lounges or off the wall places just as much. I kept hearing how the streets are always packed shoulder to shoulder with people, and all the clubs are over crowed and all of that. Not that I have a problem with that, but I really just wanted to dress up, go out with my friends and have a good time, rather than fight the crowds and try to stick with the group of people I'd be with. It just didn't sound fun to me, and I wanted Halloween to be FUN. Could I really be skipping out on a Hollywood Halloween?!
Friday night I went to a house party (a COSTUME house party, obviously) and had a blast. My Andy Warhol costume was a hit (duh) and all of the people there were a ton of fun. Plus, I met a very interesting scarecrow... So Friday was an absolute success.
Whitney Houston. Obviously.
Saturday was the big day. WeHo or no WeHo? Well, my good friend Brant invited me to go down to Main St. in Santa Monica with him and his friends, and that sounded like fun without being a total mess like my initial plans, to I agreed. We were a sight, that's for sure, Brant went as Britain's Got Talent star Susan Boyle, his roommate went as the bride from Kill Bill. Out of all these straight guys, I was the only one not cross dressing. The irony never ends.
Susan & The Bride
We met up and got ready at B's apartment. They all started taking shots, but the only alcohol they had was flavored vodka, which for some reason makes me stop breathing, so I opted to wait and drink at the bar. By the time we left, everyone was pretty drunk, except me. Picture all of these wasted drag queens and me, sober. It felt like Freaky Friday. As we walked, we kept trying to call a van taxi to get everyone to the bars because no one was in any shape to drive. We decided to walk to Wilshire, one of the bigger streets thinking that we'd find a taxi there. Well, when we got to Wilshire, there was not a taxi in sight. Someone made some drunken smart ass comment about taking a bus, as if any of us were familiar with the public transit system. And as if on cue, a bus pulls up to the curb right in front of us, and opened the doors.
“WHERE ARE YOU GOING??” Brant slurrs.
“Main st. Where are YOU going??” the bus driver yells back.
None of us had any change on us, so she let us all ride for free! And by the end of the trip, she had picked up another five or six people in costume. It was like our own personal Halloween party bus. So wrong.
The rest of the night was pretty great. A lot of bars. A lot of booze. A lot of Halloween debauchery in general. There was a point when the boys were fighting with six bouncers and security guards outside of a bar, and I had to kindly remind them that they were all in full drag and probably weren't going to get anywhere with these guys.
I was worried that Halloween wasn't going to be as fun now that I'm not on a college campus with my best friends anymore, and while it definitely wasn't the same, it was still a shitshow, which is all that matters.