Richard sighed as he walked into work on October 25th. He hated this time of year for two reasons. 1. His co-workers pressured him into attending their horrible Halloween parties 2. He could never think of a clever costume and 3. It meant that Thanksgiving was the next big holiday and his mother would be waiting to latch another “suitable” female onto him at dinner. So really that was three reasons.

He tried to avoid eye contact as he walked past several desks. He knew it wouldn’t help. Just as he reached the door to his office, it happened, as it always did, without fail.

“Hey Richard,” called Samantha, from her cubicle, “You’ve got to come to my Halloween party – everyone will be there! 7:00 p.m. sharp, ok?”

Richard nodded, and closed his office door. He wondered if they invited him every year to laugh at how boring he was. The first year, he had worn jeans and a flannel shirt but nobody recognized that he was supposed to be a cowboy. He just couldn’t bring himself to waste money on a real costume. It’s just not me, he thought.

He turned on his computer and opened his email for the day. Samantha had sent a party invite to all of the staff with a picture of her vampire costume from the year before. She even wore that to work, he remembered. Seriously, some people carried this Halloween business way too far.

At lunch, after receiving several reminders and a copy of directions to Samantha’s house, he resigned himself to the inevitable and made a short list in his notebook.

Cop

Cook

He paused, trying to think. Then he crossed Cook out, pretty sure he had worn his BBQ apron three years go. Another big sigh escaped him. His hand hovered over the paper, waiting for more ideas.

Monk.

No, he thought. They would get too much mileage out of that one. Everyone knew he hadn’t been on a non-Mother arranged date in years. Then it hit him.

Artist

He jotted down “ask Blythe?” and also, “smock, palette, beret, paint brush?”

He almost smiled. This costume could actually work.

When he got home from work, he gave himself a pep-talk.

“All you have to do, is walk up the stairs and ring her doorbell.” Richard grimaced. Maybe it was wrong to only talk to her because he needed something from her. Maybe he should just go to the gallery tomorrow at lunch and buy the supplies from her. But then he would have to tell her it was for a Halloween costume and she would say “Why didn’t you just ask me if you could borrow something?” with a friendly smile and he would end up stuttering. Maybe this costume wasn’t going to work after all.

He opened his door and peered up the stairwell. It looked quite dark. Maybe she’s out for the evening, he thought, I still have five days before the party. He quickly closed the door.

Richard talked himself out of ringing Blythe’s doorbell on the 26th and on the 27th. On the 28th, in a fit of sudden determination, he managed to get up the stairwell. He rang the doorbell twice. There was no sound in the apartment. He waited for a few minutes and then tried again. Definitely not home. He slumped back down to his apartment in a bad mood. He only had a few more days.

I can’t believe I have to waste stress on this, he thought angrily.

At the back of his closet, he pulled out the one costume he did own from a random college skit. A monk’s habit. He threw it on the bed and stared at it, hating Halloween and the adults that still thought it fun to dress up ridiculously, perpetuating a meaningless holiday year after year.

Suddenly, he heard yapping. Cooper! He rushed to his door and yanked it open. Blythe jumped.

“Hi” said Richard breathlessly. Cooper growled at him.

“Hi?” said Blythe, looking confused.

“Sorry I scared you,” he said, looking down at Cooper apologetically.

“That’s ok,” she said, “did you need something?”

“Yes,” said Richard, looking back at her, “Well, it’s stupid really . . . ” He could feel the blush starting.

“What?” she asked and smiled at him encouragingly. He threw himself on her mercy.

“I have to go to my co-worker’s Halloween party,” he burst out, “I hate going to these things, they’re horrible, I don’t know why everyone loves this holiday. “

She nodded sympathetically. Richard took a deep breath,

“I thought maybe I could go as an artist but I don’t any costume stuff, well only a monk’s habit . . .” he trailed off, totally embarrassed now. Why had he mentioned the monk’s habit?!? Why?

Blythe laughed,

“I can see why you need help,” she said, “Do you want to borrow a palette and some brushes from me? I think I even have a beret somewhere.”

“That would be great!”

“Come on up, and I’ll get it out for you,” said Blythe, “All you have to do is wear all black. You’ll be perfect.”

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