Friday, November 04, 2005

I can be Luke Skywalker if I want to....

Last night I saw Wonder Woman.

Not a movie.

I saw Wonder Woman.


Halloween was on Monday.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been driving through Pacific Beach late at night but you see some odd things.

I saw Wonder Woman.

She was practicing the ancient Irish sport of “hurling” on the side of the road.

When I got closer I realized that she had on the Wonder Woman headband, the bra, the boots but she was missing one very important piece of the outfit.

The hotpants.

Wonder Woman was throwing up on Mission Blvd. not wearing any pants.

Then I noticed the rest of the Super Heroes.

Batman, Robin, Superman, Spiderman they were all there. I think Wonder Woman was Spiderman’s date.

I didn’t park to find out.

I did circle the block however.

Apparently the Super Hero hideout is near the Jack in the Box in Pacific Beach.

The first thing that crossed my mind was, “Son of a bitch, why can’t I be 25 years old again?”

Then I remembered that when I was 25 I was married with a two year old and had another kid on the way.

Then I thought maybe I could get my wife to dress up as Wonder Woman.

Then I "wondered" where I’d be sleeping if I asked her to put that outfit on.

I have to give the twenty something year old crowd some credit.

Halloween for the rest of us is a chance to steal candy from kids and have a casual day at work.

For twenty something’s it’s a chance to dress like Super Heroes and space alien hookers.

All week long.

The shyest twenty something year old girl in the world will turn into a raving sex craved drunken maniac space alien prostitute for Halloween.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Let’s face it the costume thing is kind of fun.

It let’s us pretend or fantasize about something we’re not.

Which is how I always get into trouble.

With Halloween and the release of the last Star Wars movie I was reminded about the time I wanted my wife to dress up as Princess Leia.

Oh I didn’t tell her that I wanted her to dress up like Princess Leia.

We were at breakfast and I kind of casually put two bagels up to the side of her head.

“What the hell are you doing?”



“Umm…. NO… NO… babe. I was um… just trying to see… um…if you could hear the ocean.”

“Hear the ocean in a bagel?”

“Yes I saw it on the Discovery Channel.”

“Do I look like an idiot?”

“No you kind of look like Princess Leia.”

“Really? Okay Chewbacca help me clear the dishes off the table.”

I haven’t had a lot of fantasy’s come true.

But I will continue to fantasize because we men fantasize all the time.

You know we do guys.

Because fantasies are cheap, follow-through is expensive.

We always think of “what if’s or what I would do’s” and it almost always involves women.

And it almost always gets us into trouble.

The other night at a comedy club the very attractive bartender was wearing these black leather pants, I guess that’s what you call them, that started about mid butt cheek and then were painted onto her body. She was wearing a black leather vest, no bra, high heel shoes and a cowboy hat.

Typical bartending attire.

I wasn’t paying that much attention to her so I could have part of the outfit wrong.

(For the record whoever invented those low rise pants cannot be gay.)

Yes it was Halloween dress up night, (Even though it was not Halloween), and she is in fact a twenty something year old.

When we males see something like this we form the same type of pack that women form when they go to the bathroom.

So we can talk about women.

Which is exactly what women do when they form packs.

And the only people with more vivid imaginations than males with alcohol in their systems are male comedians with alcohol in their systems.

“Boy…she’s smoking hot.”

“Yeah, ride em cowboy.”

“You could put an eye out with that.”

"Now that my friends is an onion lady."

"An onion lady?"

"Yeah, she's got an ass so fine it brings tears to your eyes."

“Man… what I would do to…”

Here’s the thing. Men are pigs. It doesn’t matter whether we are 18 or 80 we’re pigs. Most of the time harmless pigs, but we are pigs. You can say a lot of things about how hot a woman is and not get into trouble but when you get to the line, “Man… what I would do…” you need to make sure the person you are saying this to is not the female in question’s boyfriend or husband.

You also need to make sure he’s not the manager of the comedy club.

But I never have to worry about these things.

Because for a brief moment I may have the “Man…what I would do…” thought in my head and then the “you’ll probably hurt and embarrass yourself” thought just blocks it out.

That happens when you hit 40.

And have Princess Leia at home.

Maybe women find Chewbacca kind of sexy.

May the Force be with you.