rats live on no evil star.

tonight, the night before halloween, i went to a party.

like, a party. basically one where everyone stands around drinking and yelling and talking about how drunk they are and how they can't hear each other beacuse they're not yelling loud enough. yeah, one of those. but there were costumes involved this time, too, and mine garnered some attention.

i got a shot of manhattan at midnight from a rooftop in brooklyn tonight.

a drunken oopma loompa told me how he "fucking LOVES true blood, man!!!," while the girl who was with him (his willy wonka) also told me how great my waitress outfit was.

this weekend, the empire state building is orange and white, all night. usually the lights go off at 2 am.

a man dressed as che guevara, who i think thought i was cute because of the way he kept looking at me (though i've lost my ability to discern these sorts of things since last december), wanted to know "HOW BUSINESS WAS GOING AT SAM MERLOTTE'S?"

"great!" i said. "it's going. i'm here to serve drinks."
"YEAH? WHO AM I?"
"che!"
(here, he took of his hat, shaking his head.)
"NO, I'M THAT WEREWOLF."
"oh! alcide!"
"YEAH! ALCIDE!!!"

charming.

lesson one, to that kid from med school who was trying to get his friend to dance near me because he probably wanted to talk to me: just talk.
lesson two, to that friend of mine who regret(s)/(ted) not engaging that boy in conversation: eye contact is key.
lesson three, to that other friend of mine who spent the night chatting up a swede who is only in town for a brief amount of time: if it's supposed to happen, and you want it to, it will work. trust yourself. trust each other. trust each moment you can be in his presence, however few there may be.

as usual, i was the designated sober friend, a role which i actually find enjoyable, sometimes. getting a friend who was consciously drunk off of one can of four loko on the l train to manhattan at 2 o'clock on halloween morning was an experience in itself.

as we were waiting for the light to change so we could cross the street, i saw a man with a bright red wig in a lab coat. he was alone. i read the name written in sharpie on his right side, not even processing it before saying, "beaker!"

he turned and looked at me before he hopped backwards a little, the way beaker would.

i smiled, and waved a little.

my childhood is forever changed.