My Run-in With Sellout Guy

Halloween was a blast. We went to a bar in Manhattan and everyone loved the Bullshit Avenger costume. Riding the subway dressed up like a superhero, carrying a whip and wearing a red cape and knee high boots was awesome. Don’t worry, I’ll post a picture as soon as I get one.

Everyone at the bar was dressed in costume. There were two Rainbow Brites, all four Ghostbusters, and even a guy dressed up as the Gates. Lame costumes included: a guy riding a chicken (seriously, wtf?) and the plethora of slutty nurse/cop/construction worker costumes. Listen, I’m really all about slutty, and adult Halloween is pretty much just an excuse to dress up slutty, but can’t we at least be creative about it? The prefab costumes are just lame.

As we were leaving, I noticed this guy across the room in street clothes, no costume, staring at me. I stupidly made eye contact for a split second and he came over and said, “You’re my arch enemy.”

“Um, okay,” I said.

“Are you like, no bullshit girl?” he said.

“I’m the Bullshit Avenger,” I said.

“I’m sellout guy,” he said.

Sellout guy. Seriously, people. Lame. If you’re not going to wear a costume, just don’t wear a costume. Don’t go around telling people you are sellout guy.

“Oh,” I said. “Okay.”

“So what are you going to do to me?” he leered.

“Um, I whip people.”

“Oh, are you going to whip me then?”

“Um, yeah,” I said. I tapped him with my whip. “Right, gotta go!” I grabbed one of the guys I was with (who was dressed up as Ron Burgundy, by the way, awesome) and booked it out of there.

So that was my Halloween. I’m going down to the city again tomorrow for a girls’ night, and even though we won’t be in costume this time it will still be fun.

I’ll just have to be on the lookout for sellout guy.