He he he…. Today at work a coworker told this story of what could have been a tragic tail of CSI or Canadian Crime Stories. My friend, who I will not reveal his identity, told me a true tail about himself and one Halloween long ago when he was a small kid growing up in Vancouver in the late 1960s. He got talking about his young adventures because the guys at work were trying to play a prank on the newer employees by telling them that each year, our department, everyone dresses up in drag and our supervisor would dress up as a guy acting like a pimp. Then my friend (Speedy) told me his tail from long ago of wearing dresses and why it was not a good idea….
Once upon a time in downtown Vancouver, in the late 1960s I lived along Main Street. I was getting ready for a Halloween party at home with the help of my parents. That year I was dressing up as a girl: wearing the wig, makeup, full length dress and pumps. My mother was getting everything done right. I had fake boobs on and she made sure the makeup was done perfectly. I had black pantyhose to hide the hair on my legs and a long wig to hide my facial hair. As the costume was almost done, the living room curtains were drawn open to see outside overlooking the street. A man was walking by along the sidewalk, and just happened to look inside through the open window while I was standing on a chair. He looked right at me while my mother was fixing the dress I was wearing. I looked back at him and without hesitation, I gave him one of those little waves, with the fluttering fingers and a big smile just like I just said “CHEESE” in front of a camera. My mother saw this and told me to stop at once. The guy kept on walking after my mother grabbed my arm to stop. Later that night after the party was over and we were all retired to bed, we were awoke by the sounds of a man calling out “Hey SWEETY, I’M Over Here, I Love YOU…” First my mother awoke, and then as the calls turned onto singing and songs, serenades of love and other pop-song hits of the day: we were all awake and wondering what the heck was going on. It was the man who I waved to earlier that day. He was drunk and he wanted to meet the woman who tickled his fancy. Embarrassed–yes. My mother threatened him, told him to leave or she would phone the police. He did leave, but was mortally wounded as the images of the woman of his dreams faded from intoxication. The moral of the story is, be careful about what types of signals you give to people while wearing a mask–it could turn ugly!
Thanks (speedy) for sharing that story with us.