a few years ago i helped one of my friends create the perfect halloween custom. it was inexpensive, unless you consider the price of pride to be a steep one.
he went as a baby. we were amazed to find that diapers are for more than just toddlers and those with seasonal trickle issues. at walmart, you can buy them to fit a grown man. he ran all over duluth and superior in a diaper, little booties, a cookie monster bib and a bottle -- the nipple-top torn with his naked teeth so that he could get the beer out faster.
later that night he seamlessly transitioned it from a halloween costume, into the way he would mortify his opponents in a mad ping pong tournament in our basement.
little did i know, on halloween 2002 -- watching him slide across the basement floor, whacking at shot after shot with nary a tear to his shorts, that one of those leftover diapers would save my life.
last nite i went to the country kitchen in proctor with that same friend. we ended up back at his house where i decided to crash, full of ham and cheese omelet, an ounce of gas in my car, and tired to beat all heck.
i woke up to a scene just way to unfortunate to properly describe. i will say just this:
mass murder. green pants. no supplies. girls, you know what i'm talking about.
i delicately explained my situation, and he knew just how to take care of it. he ran to the basement and ran back upstairs where he presented me with a) a diaper; b) a pair of sweatpants; c) a bag for soiled outerware.
you may go through your entire life without ever thinking the phrase "i wonder if [my landlord's] neighbors can tell that i'm wearing a diaper?" as you walk to your car. unfortunately, its too late for me.
honestly, it fit quite comfortably. when i got home i wandered around a bit, did some emailing, read some blogs, and then grudgingly took it off so i could shower.
the ease with which i adopted to the bulky fit bodes well for my future as a senior citizen.
