Diary

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Part 11
New York, Monday November 1

10:05 a.m.
Peerooz had to go away on another business trip this past weekend so we postponed our first date for next weekend.

Sunday night was a Halloween party at Bruce's. His apartment overlooks Sixth Avenue, giving us a great view of the annual Village Halloween parade. The Village always is great at this time of year. EVERYONE on the street is dressed up. Some are in drag, which probably isn't MUCH of a change from their daily routine. Then you get groups of NYU students who decided to go for a theme night, such as the Spice Girls, or the ConeHeads. In short, all the crazies are out, and all the straitlaced people get crazy and join them!

Bruce always has a costume party at this time of year. I have gone through many incarnations, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Blonde Wig, Madonna type cross necklace and a Mr. Pointy stake that I kept pursuing people with all night) to Wonder Woman (unfortunately that was the year we decided to go "trick or treating" and I was freezing the whole night!).

This year, I opted for a costume reminiscent of both horror and glam. Yeah I know it's hard to mix but you can't beat Mia Wallace in that department. You remember Mia don't you? The girl in the movie Pulp Fiction, with her cool black suit and matching wig, and the slight cocaine addiction problem? That must have been one of the most gruesome scenes in movie history, when John Travolta has to ressucitate her from her drug-induced coma by planting a big insulin needle in her heart! Of course I had to go all the way on that: I bought a short black wig with Louise Brooks bangs, and just used my own clothes to recreate that great black pantsuit and wide collared crisp white shirt. I bought some baby powder which I put all over my face to give me that "blood-drained-junkie look. I even inserted a piece of cardboard under my shirt, secured under my bra, to stick a fake needle I bought as part of a Nurse Ratched costume last year. There! The finished product was quite satisfying. I was walking around with a needle sticking out of my chest. One night where the cops wouldn't even bat an eyelash at this sight.

Went up to Bruce's fourth floor apartment. From inside the door came muffled sounds of laughter and music. I was all poised to party my hardiest when the door opened and my limbs froze. Bruce was staring at me and my syringe with a bewildered look on his face. Clinging to my last hope, I asked him:

-- "Umm... Bruce it doesn't count if you dress up for Halloween as a dark bohemian artist, you already are one."

Bruce was wearing his usual uniform of black Abercrombie & Fitch T-Shirt and black jeans.

-- "Oh.. Naz... Darling... I am so sorry, did you have the impression this was a costume party?"

-- "BRUCE!!! What do you mean 'did I have the impression?...' You have a costume party every year!"

-- "But... I just was too depressed this year... with Mario and stuff... and..didn't you get my message?"

-- "NOOOOO!!!!"

I turned on my heels ready to bolt but came face to face with.... Ali! He was stepping off the elevator. Without meaning to be rude, I blurted out:

-- "What are YOU doing here?"

He answered sheepishly:

-- "Well... umm... Nance and Hossein couldn't find a baby-sitter but Manny said I was more than welcome... What... um... This is a nice outfit."

He was looking at my chest though not, obviously, for the wrong reasons (or right reasons depending on how you look at it!).

I couldn't believe this. Everytime I met this guy, did I have to look like a complete freak? By this time Manny and a few other guests had come to the door wondering what the commotion was all about. Fortunately for me, they were too drunk already to pass any comments on my get-up.

-- "Come on you guuuuyyyyzzzz, the parade has started! The freaks are running the asylum tonight!...."

Manny and Bruce finally convinced me to come in and even keep the needle in. After a few drinks, I was laughing along with the rest of them and even took some very funny pictures with Bruce wearing my wig and Manny pretending to stab me with my needle.

The party guests were our gang of usual suspects: Friends, co-workers and countless acquaintances made in the art world and/or general party circuit by Manny and Bruce. Someone passed a joint and I couldn't resist taking a drag. After all this was Halloween, the most sinful night of the year, right? But as usual, all it did to me was to put me to sleep and I woke up in the morning in Bruce's guest bedroom, my fake needle still protruding from my chest.

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