Picking one winner among the scores of costumed creatures who were out partying on Friday, the night before Halloween, could be a tall order.
Actually, its a lot easier when the top banana is pushing nine feet tall.
That was the case with the victor in the Smilin’ Moose contest, Frankenstein, who took home a cool $500 in cash for his efforts in walking in a stilted way, just like the movie monster, and clinking glasses with anyone who was average height or above. When asked how he got around without falling on those stilt-like legs, he just shrugged. Some patrons wondered aloud how he could negotiate the much shorter bathroom door, should he feel nature’s call, or should I say that of his otherworldly creator.
As one of only a handful of nightspots having a Friday contest, the Moose had the most costumes, and other venues also had some fairly busy streaks, although they were not steady and tended to be early. People later had to make their way around the downtown without the benefit of the many street lights that were out. So early was good, as it put them where they needed to be when the Moose judging was held, (while the first-place prize was almost CEO style as far as moola, the awards dwindled to much lesser amounts after that, more along the comparative lines of a rank and file worker).
Here are some other examples of interesting garb:
— A storm trooper boasted plenty of hard white plastic, and also had a gun and big backpack that reminded me of Ghost Busters (appropriate for Halloween).
— A bunny-costumed staffer moved over a gate at the Moose to go downstairs, in what I would say was “going down the rabbit hole.”
— A couple came as characters from A League of Their Own, and guy did a good Tom Hanks impersonation.
— A man was dressed in all hot pink, unusual because the outfit even included a great big Texas-size hat.
— One of several sailors in suits, a young man went old school and had a handkerchief tucked in the large pocket-protector-type opening of his lapel.
— Devil-themed hats included both horns that were flaps and built into a red hoodie, and an antelope-style, single-pair-of-tines twisted rack. Some servers sported reindeer horns, but in at least one case these fell off while she was hustling around.
— A woman in uniform wore insignias that said “Sheriff’s Department.” I had to crane my neck to see what other writings were on that badge. Where did she hail from? It said on the bottom, “Reno, Nevada.” Considering that this is Halloween, that seemed appropriate.
— Lastly, a “priest” said that earlier in the day, people kept asking him for religious advice, thinking he was an actual man of the cloth. This took place when he was looking to buy a monkey with whom he could do a parody, ala Jethro Tull, and “bungle in the jungle,” if you know what I mean. His props included a real Bible, between the pages of which he stuck his money and other items such as a cigarette lighter, (which at first to me looked like a severed finger). He also had dangling from his neck one of the biggest crosses you’ll ever see, rivaled only by a guy from the Twin Cities who a while back was at Dick’s Bar and Grill dressed like a gangsta wannabe. The faux father had as his counterpoint a St. Patrick, who tweaked other patrons with his staff, like they were snakes or something.
There were a couple of prominent annual costumes whose owners said they would be no-shows because of other commitments. A techno music fan said that she and her boyfriend would usually dress up in “death punk” helmets, and that winning a prize would almost be a no-brainer, except they felt it would be something like insider training should they take the cake at the place she worked. Another guy who, guess what, is in such a band added he’d normally go as a punker musician, complete with mohawk.