Halloween

Halloween was an interesting exercise ’round these parts. First of all, it was EIGHTY DEGREES outside. It was limp, not crisp. I wore shorts. Halloween is not meant for shorts.

It’s also the night I met Boob Neighbor’s daughter. Since all of the doors in our neighborhood are set far back from the street, trick or treat was set up in the driveway. Chairs plunked down, I noticed a rather rotund woman in a folding chair in Les’s driveway. Assuming she was his wife Rosemary, I perkily called out, “Hello! Haven’t seen you for a while!”

“We’ve never met, but I’ve seen you lots of times outside. You work from home for a technology company. You wear a green T-shirt to get the mail a lot.”

Um, okay. Cindy is Lou’s daughter and is rather hefty, with beady little eyes, gigantic glasses and a penchant for oversize turquoise t-shirts with images of airbrushed cats that have been Bedazzled into blinding white sparkles that radiate even in Halloween darkness. She’s 36, has never lived away from home and has not had a job since Clinton was in office. She covers her Pontiac Grand Am with a gigantic tarp every night, even though she keeps it in the garage, like Cameron’s dad in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Except it’s a Pontiac.

Originally from Rochester, while we were chatting, she recounted her family’s difficulty adjusting to living here. Not the brightest bulb, she lamented how dark it gets here in the evenings. As if daylight savings time is only in this state. Her real issue, however, was the lack of availability of the Italian sausages she knew and loved so well.

“The foods here. They’re multicultural, but there is far too much…MEXICAN. In fact, if you ask me, there are far too many Mexicans. In general. Everywhere. Hispanic this, taco that. TACOS. EVERYWHERE THERE IS A TACO STAND.”

And then, the crowning jewel, when she finally picked up on my stunned silence,

“OH MY GOD. You have brown eyes. YOU ARE MEXICAN, AREN’T YOU? I’m so sorry. I mean, no offense. It’s dark outside and I couldn’t see your nationality. Mexicans aren’t that bad. Just most of them. I’m sure you’re very nice.”

I didn’t correct her.

8 comments November 10th, 2005