Duane Reade was a shit show (Halloween '09 in drag)

Due to a last-minute change of plans, my Real Housewives of Atlanta Halloween started off at TTT’s getting ready. Please tell me why she has a masters in Engineering and a) made her balloon boobs too big and b) couldn’t figure out how to untie the balloons to deflate them! Maybe federally funded student loans aren't such a good investment...

Anyway, once we were ready, we hopped the train on the way to an open bar at Vlada and ended up next to some ditzy girl who had the nerve to say that The Real Housewives of Orange County was her favorite Housewives show! It was all I could do not to blurt out that I was done with them after Jo left! Anyway, we couldn’t get to the open bar quickly enough.

There were all kinds of awesome costumes at Vlada for the contest, but TTT and I had to get downtown to meet up with MicHELLe, who was our Nene. Why did the bartender give TTT 4 drinks for us instead of 2 as we were trying to gulp on our way out the door (but best believe we finished all 4)! Even the inside of the Duane Reade was a shit show (that was our landmark for meeting MicHELLe). Once we found her, it was pure madness. She had gone to Food Emporium and bought a bag of peaches for us to pose with! I would have bought some too, but I couldn’t find any in my neighborhood. I bought cups of peaches in gelatin instead just in case there was some kind of city-wide shortage.

We really spent the rest of our time prancing around The Village and taking pictures with people (god only knows where those have been posted). We tried to stop by Pieces, but they were charging at $10 cover (pssh!). We dropped in on Miss Victoria Chase, who was hosting a costume contest at Boots ‘N Saddle. Why did I walk in find a 'white' drag queen?!

MicHELLe: “How this guy calling himself a Gucci Ghost when that’s clearly coach print.”

After a few more pictures on the street, TTT got a text from Med School Mess about a house party in midtown hosted by someone none of us knew. We ran (well, shuffled in our heels) to an uptown train, which was packed with people in costume! We noticed everyone was a bit tipsy (one guy had open Coors Light cans in his hands), so we may or may not have started the Lady Gaga/Beyoncé sing-a-long.

By the time we got to 42^nd St., Med School Mess and the crew he was with said they couldn’t get into the party. Apparently, some friend of a friend pulled a major douchebag move and told us to go to the party while he was still in Brooklyn (which wasn’t a huge surprise, looking at his track record of flakiness... and the fact that gays under 40 are not to be relied on).

While TTT was on the phone getting this news, a band of bridge-and-tunnel guys stopped in front of us on a pedicab. The leader of this pack had target written all over him.

Geez, I don't even know where to start!

Obviously referencing the played out Italian (watered down) stereotype.

You know it’s a recession when your Staten Island... residents aren’t even close to being orange!

We had to mess with him: “Oo, it says winner gets a ride! Hope I’m tall enough!”

Guido: “Dude, I’ll pay you double if you get us away from these guys! Run the light, man!”

Me as they pedaled off: “Does the Verrazano* have a bike lane?!”

After a stop (drink?) at Posh, I stopped by MicHELLe’s to change and wash off my makeup. She was so excited to show me her new bed that she broke the strap on her dress. We also decided that we needed to do brunch the next day in our costumes (why!).

MicHELLe remembered in the morning that her dress was broken, so she suggested a wig brunch instead, much to my relief. Apparently MicHELLe had her wig and boobs on when the others showed up (I was late).

After spending way more than I should have, we all migrated to Pieces for a bit of bingo (huh?). Bottomless Pitt was eager to go to Chi Chiz for 2-4-1 with the wigs, but I couldn’t deal with that much drinking (I was still getting over a flu-like sickness that had me out of work for 3.5 days!). Did I mention she managed to stay out late enough to make it to Greenhouse that night?! Yeah.

*the Verrazano is the bridge to Staten Island, NYC’s forgotten borough of suburban-ness. There’s one train that goes from one side of SI to the other, but none to Manhattan. Rumor has it that its residents are notoriously racist, and they have NYC’s only After Hours Formal Wear (my brother's wedding tuxes were registered there, but I went to the one in NJ).

Click here to check out the ridiculous Halloween party from last year.

Note: you may find the "Topics of Discussion" on the right and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.