The Customary Dilemma

Perhaps the most pressing question of any young person's year is the following:

Just what the hell should I be for Halloween?

It's certainly a difficult question to answer. Oftentimes, contemplation runs down the clock and there you are, an hour before the party, wrapping a roll of toilet paper around yourself so you can be a mummy. On other occasions, you spend hundreds of dollars and dozens of hours turning old televisions into an Optimus Prime costume that will be used for maybe three hours, give you a stiff neck, chafe, and then be discarded forever.

The trick, of course, is to find the happy medium. For a slightly lazy twenty-five year old with little-to-no artistic vision, this can be a daunting task indeed.

At the very least, we all know that a costume cannot be repeated. It would be like telling the same joke twice. Therefore, the following costumes are off-limits:

Nacho Libre: Perhaps my finest costume since 01's Austin Powers. It is always best to pick a costume which is close to your heart. Here we have many things: Mexican. Portly. Prone to wrestling. Likes to show off. Hell, I even went to a Marshall's and bought myself a pair of women's underwear, size 14, of a glowing silver with red stars on it. The perfect outerwear. A serape as a cape, a torn wife-beater, and I was set. People were taking pictures of me in the subway. It is amazing what stretchy pants and a mustache will do.

An INS agent: My train of thought: I need a costume for Halloween. Halloween is supposed to be scary. What scares me the most? And presto, a federal was born. Khaki pants, short-sleeve khaki shirt, aviators, a black hat, a dog tag, a badge, and an instinct to shoot anyone beyond "off-white." Done.

Party Boy: No, not the one from Jackass. This, I must admit, was one of those there's-an-hour-before-the-party costumes. Basically, I took every piece of drinking paraphernalia I have acquired over the years -- beads, lei's, a boa, plastic wristbands, more beads, a mask, and viking horns -- and threw those all over nothing but ripped shorts and an unbuttoned baseball jersey that said Beer Marathon on the back. Not a terrific costume, but at least I was something. Also, the number of beads I have is frightening. Yeesh.

Before these, memory fails me. Therefore, if I cannot remember them, they are fair game again. The problem is, I'm having trouble coming up with anything.

I thought perhaps I could go as the Bear Jew. I would only need some Nazi scalps, a bat, and a wife-beater. Unfortunately, it seems very few people actually saw Inglourious Basterds. Also, it's not a terrific costume.

Caitlin suggested I go as Teddy Kennedy. Basically, I put on a suit, don a white wig, speak in a Kennedy accent, and drink lots of scotch and hit on every woman in the bar. The problem is, people are just going to think, "Oh, that's Carlos in a white wig."

Going as one of the Wild Things would be awesome. Unfortunately, it seems like a really, really difficult costume. Remember who you're dealing with here. Max himself might be a possibility, but I have no clue where to get a wolf costume and everyone's going to do it. Next.

The old guy from Up? Perhaps. Wolverine? Maybe, it seems easy enough. Dr. Manhattan? I would, but I don't need another indecent exposure charge.

And then it hit me.

People have actually dressed up as me in the past. Seriously. They have worn a sombrero, a serape, and a name tag that said, "Carlos." I have been a costume before. It's perfect. Why can't I dress up as myself? Why can't I be so meta it hurts the brain?

This Halloween, I'm dressing up as a Mexican.