October 21: The Olympic Swimmer

I was never any good at Halloween. Sure, I had the running-around-my-neighborhood-at-dusk-like-an-idiot down and I could stuff my face with fun-size Snickers and Milky Ways with the best of them, but my costumes always lacked originality. I was a clown (fun not scary), Dracula (pre-Edward Cullen era), the devil (with horns that actually lit up), a mummy, and a bum. My dad worked for United Parcel Service, so it just so happened that my most "creative" costume was a UPS man. The outfit was so simple and cheap that I was able to repeat it at least two more times.

It wasn't until my sophomore year of college that I had a decent costume. Two of my best friends and I took a trip to the local Target and we let our imaginations loose. One of my friends (we'll call him John) purchased a little kid ninja suit and the other friend (code name: Jane) purchased an inflatable pumpkin suit complete with an automatic internal fan to keep the costume from losing air. I went with more of a hodgepodge approach by getting a Sponge Bop outfit and a Madeline (you know, little French orphan?) yellow brimmed hat which included red hair stitched to the inside. The outfits weren't even that good, but we had so much fun with them that we immediately started planning for the following year.

The biggest event (aside from the Red Sox world championship) of 2004 was the Summer Olympics in Athens, Greece. People were still raving about a young swimmer by the name of Michael Phelps when the calendar flipped to October and the three of us decided that in order to win the Best Costume award, we would have to do something extreme. We would have to turn heads and make jaws drop. I suggested showing up to our party in as little clothing as possible and John did one better: we go as Olympic swimmers.

We had a few weeks to prepare our costumes and at first, we thought they would be pretty straightforward. We would go to Big-5 Sporting Goods, pick up matching swim caps, goggles, and of course, Speedos and show up to our party. How difficult could that be? But as the countdown to the event dwindled down to days, we realized that we were all pretty hairy. If you know me at all, you'll know I'm one missed haircut from being a clean-cut version of Harry from Harry and the Hendersons. Showing up to a party in nothing more than a Speedo would not be funny; it would be the most terrifying Halloween outfit ever. If we wanted to go through with the humility of arriving in these outfits, we would have to be respectful to the other attendees.

The next few meals we shared together were spent in discussing how to remove so much hair. I had shaved my head bald in 1998 in honor of the Padres making the World Series and I never forgot the razor burn my head endured for an entire week. I wasn't about to put my entire body through that torture, but how else could we safely remove the hair? We knew what Nair was, but none of us had actually used the product, so without giving away any details of our plan, we asked a girl at a neighboring table what her experience with it was. She was very helpful, but I wish I could have heard her thoughts after watching three guys huddle together before asking her about a product that removed hair.

After failing to come up with an answer to our hairy predicament, we found ourselves getting more and more discouraged at the thought of showing up to our party in incomplete outfits. I didn't want to take a razor to my legs, arms, and chest for fear of the burn and the Nair just didn't seem to be a viable option. It was looking like we would be arriving with a Speedo and a whole lot of hair until John showed up to dinner in the cafeteria with a smooth arm; he discovered that his electric beard trimmer would do the trick. The plan was back on!

The day of the party arrived. John woke up and finished the job he had started before coming over to my room and making the hand off of the trimmer. When he left, I laid out a bed sheet and switched the little buzzing tool on. I started on my toes, worked my way up my legs, and watched as the white sheet became progressively darker with my trimmings. When I was done, I pulled my Speedos up and my swim cap down. I snapped my goggles into place before looking in the mirror through their blue tint to see an albino seal staring back at me.

I don't want to brag, but we definitely stole the show. People didn't know whether to laugh or scream when we entered the room "fashionably late." Our images burned the retinas of our friends who simply could not look away. Somehow, we failed to win Best Costume, but we were satisfied with our Scariest title.

I take mental notes all year on prospective outfits for the coming Halloween. I always want to have the funniest, most creative costume for whatever party I may be attending, but I inevitably come up short each year. I had the most unoriginal costumes for twenty years before having two fantastic outfits. Looking back on those three Olympic swimmers, I fear I will never be able to top that outfit.