goodwoodenship

Halloween in the US is a strange affair, in the London of my youth halloween was about looking as hideous as possible. (All the better to frighten evil spirits with). In the US it seems to be about wish fulfillment. Which was why Saturday night at a party hosted by a gay friend of a gay friend was slightly surreal. Myself and Carlotta (the friend I dragged along) were the only two natural born females in a room populated by perfect facsimiles of all the most famous and desirable of females, Miss Piggy being the most resplendent of all. Balancing out the mass of female hormones was the gay porn projected above the bar area where two muscular youths battled naked on a bridge with a man in a lizard costume and then proceeded to sword fight. (Literally not metaphorically.) In the midst of bulging cleavages, sweeping ball gowns, and undulating curves we felt utterly unfeminine and completely out of place. Consequently we felt the only real solution, and admittedly this is a worrying credo, was to get utterly plastered on half a bottle of tequila each. Mummy would be proud.

Some way into the bottle we discovered a karaoke machine in the downstairs basement. The machine gave us scores of 90 out of 100 which would have been ego boosting had it not been for the fact that fairly soon after we started singing someone shut us into the basement.