All Hallows Ev'en

I saw a lot of people in costumes on the train last night. There was a guy in a white lab coat looking exhausted and miserable, and for a moment I thought that it wasn't a costume at all, and that he was on his was home from work. But then I saw his embroidered monogram: Seymour Bush, Gynecologist. That's when I knew it must be a costume, because no gynecologist would ever leave the hospital in his lab coat and also probably wouldn't take the T.

Two girls next to me wore itsy bitsy dresses with lace-up tops and low-cut chests. I didn't know what they were supposed to be until I realized that the checkerboard pattern against a yellow background identified one as a taxi. And in case I'd missed that, there was a sticker that read "Free Rides" on her right breast. The other dress was red, so I figured that girl was a ladybug or a devil, but I guess it doesn't matter. I've come to accept that in my generation of young American women, Halloween has more to do with what we aren't wearing.

And so I can't help but miss the Halloween of my youth, where we all acted scary and went around exploring our neighbors' porches and entryways and pawning off Smarties on our little sisters.

But I must add that I still had a grand time making up a spooky story about the person hovering over me in a skeleton mask for two stops. And that I wish I could go here: Seven Unique and Terrifying Haunted Attractions at One Location!