Halloween in the Dub

As a few of you probably know, this year I decided to skip the alcohol-drenched college ritual of dressing up in as little clothing as possible, soliciting more alcohol at various fraternities and co-ops, and ultimately trying to end up in bed with somebody with an equally compromising costume...or as it's more commonly known, Halloween. I've always felt that Halloween was a bit overrated (seriously, if I can't make a costume out of what I already own, I won't), and this time around I actually had a valid excuse to return home (my brother was premiering his really awesome skate film, and I wanted to be there). Therefore, I took lukewarm holiday candor back to my suburban hometown in a quest to relax, study for an accounting midterm, and generally be a curmudgeon about October's finest shitshow. Well, after the video premiere last night, Veronica and I decided that since we had nothing better to do, we'd wander around Walnut Creek as sober observers of some of Halloween's finest specimens. We also decided to do this because the new Parkmead playground is possibly the most dangerous place in town, and that was our second best option. Seriously, why are some of the elevated shaped things stationary, while others move a lot if you jump on them? And why is there a toy that spins so quickly that Veronica suggested I used the sentence "in the moments before my death via centrifugal force, I realized something..." The horror of Downtown Walnut Creek couldn't have been half as bad as these toys meant for small children. But I digress.

For those of you who aren't from Walnut Creek, here's what you should know about my home town. Originally, Walnut Creek was a small suburban town with good schools; families used to move here in order to do all the normal suburban things, essentially. Recently, Walnut Creek has developed a more robust shopping and nightlife scene. Our downtown features every vomit-inducing designer clothing store you could imagine, plus the only clubs outside of San Francisco that actually look like they could be featured on an episode of Jersey Shore. As thus, my town is now home to an alarming amalgamation of egoistic snobbishness and post collegiate, white collar trashiness (along with some actually trashiness which can mainly be attributed to the many people from Concord/Antioch/Brentwood who visit on weekends to come to our bars). As a sober twenty year old with no intentions of partying on the Saturday before Halloween, I felt like Steve Irwin in the Outback. It was time to catch some fucking crocodiles.

Observation 1: Sluttiness is a self-fulfilling prophecy

One of the main events of the night, as it is anywhere on Halloween, is looking at the dreadfully simple, yet heroically slutty costumes. In college, this is considered slightly acceptable because you're in a bubble, going to college parties, conceivably seeking to hook up with people who are also within your bubble. However, when you're wandering through quiet suburban streets chain smoking and wearing what I could only describe as "a nightgown??" the acceptability is a bit...muddled. At one point a young woman who I walked by in a very short Snow White costume (which was actually pretty modest in comparison to some of the outfits we saw) actually very drunkenly yelled across the street "I feel slutty...hmmm." The males weren't much better, as almost every man I walked by was rocking the unbuttoned "cowboy/Chippendales/Patrick Swayze" outfit in an obvious effort to show off their rock hard abs...bro. My only conclusion from all this is as follows: if you dress like you want to have anonymous sex, you shouldn't be surprised when you stumble into that situation. Now, I'm not saying that these people should be ashamed - without Halloween, we wouldn't have the single best random hookup opportunity that college offers. It just gets a little alarming when you're in your mid thirties, have clearly rumbling ovaries, and aren't exactly as flattering as you were in your early twenties. I've said that you are what you eat and you are what you love...and now I'm going to say that you are how you dress as well. For better or worse. Mostly worse.

Observation 2: If you're over forty, you really shouldn't be going to clubs called "Vice" dressed as Dracula

This is a pretty simple observation, but the point is lost on many people. There should be age limits on dressing up in ridiculous costumes. Granted, the older crown had a much firmer grasp on what was appropriate and what was also clever, but still, go to a Halloween party at somebody's mansion if you want to pull that crap! There were a handful of incidents regarding people who were just way to old to be nodding their heads to Lil Wayne and drinking hard alcohol. I'm all for adults going out and having a good time. But at least try to look cool about it...and maybe do it on a night other than Halloween.

Observation 3: I really don't want to end up drinking in costume in my hometown 10 years after I graduate college

By far the bulk of the crowd we saw seemed to be the older siblings of people that went to high school with us. Whether they ended up taking the six year community college to underwhelming local job route or whether they just migrated back to Walnut Creek is irrelevant - the point is that people should try to leave the suburbs at some point, right? I've noticed that in Walnut Creek, the majority of new bars are swanky places designed to trick people into thinking that they're in a hip place like Santa Monica. Newsflash: you aren't. Your town isn't hip when fourteen year olds sit outside of a movie theater for three hours trying to bum cigarettes. Last night I actually had somebody who looked like he couldn't drive legally tell me that whiskey was his favorite alcohol too. So, by that logic, I'm relatively certain that you aren't in a swanky upper class club. However, many people seem to have tricked themselves into believing that they're a part of an admirable "scene." They dress up as Jersey Shore cast members (or perhaps those weren't costumes) and pretend that they are in the cosmopolitan cities of their dreams, when in reality, they are simply pencil pushers in the suburbs. And maybe this is enough for them. Honestly, it did seem like everybody that I saw was having a great time wandering around the sprawl from bar to bar, whistling at women and flexing their muscles. I can't judge happiness if that's what it looks like for some people. All I know was that it made me sad for the future of my town.

If there's any overarching theory that can be gleaned from these random thoughts, its that growing up in the suburbs is always a mixed bag. You have people raising families, people getting their first jobs and apartments, and people still living with their parents...it's a very socially diverse (if not racially diverse) constituency. For Walnut Creek, this is especially potent because of the developing nightlife that seems to draw these crowds from all over East Contra Costa County. It was nice to be able to look at the Halloween ritual as it would look like ten years after I graduate and know that for me personally, I wouldn't be caught dead anywhere close to it. For now I'll put on half-assed costumes and do the party runaround in college - really, that's what I'm supposed to do at this age and that's what I enjoy doing. And I'm not opposed to one day returning to Walnut Creek, having a beer and watching a basketball game at a bar. But if you see me downing shots in Crogan's when I'm thirty, please gag me, put me in a locked room, and force me to watch those horrific Carrot Top commercials for four straight days. That's the only punishment that could ever fit that crime for me.