Paging Dr. P... Something

I’m not hugely into the whole costume thing. Nonetheless, I went to a Halloween costume party this weekend. I kind of liked my costume, too. I wore bluish-green scrubs with a stethoscope around my neck. Also draped around my neck was a short strand of Christmas lights with chili pepper covers on them. On the breast pocket, was one word: “Pepper.” Have you worked it out yet? I was Dr. Pepper. I even had packets of pepper in my pocket (courtesy of Wendy’s), which allowed me to hand them out and ask people, “Wouldn’t you like to be a Pepper, too?”

I know you think this costume sounds very clever and original (and/or perhaps a bit stupid), but 1) I didn’t come up with it, 2) I found it on the Internet, and 3) I wore it last year. I was happy to reuse it, too, since it took some effort to put together and my standard procrastination meant that it cost a lot more than it should have because of overnight shipping costs.

I remembered from last year that the scrubs were a bit large. However, as I put them on this time and held out the waist, I thought there was room for a whole ‘nother person in there. With some planning and a willing participant, that might have made for a good – and distinctly more fun – costume, but it was just me this time around. So I cinched that waist down (thankfully it had a drawstring) and went on about my business with some seriously baggy pants.

Once dressed, I headed to a friend’s house to hang out and have pre-party drinks. That was fun, too. The costumes included a hair band rock star, a deviled egg, FEMA, stoned, a panda, a cave girl, and (my personal favorite) poop. Yes, I said poop. It was a brown hoodie sweatsuit with some corn glued to it and a toilet seat over the head.

After a couple of drinks I had to avail myself of the facilities, and I excused myself to do so. I reckon that one should exercise caution when relieving himself in a costume, as it kind of puts him outside the comfort zone. However, I had a pretty simple costume, and I managed to get through it with no mishaps. So I washed my hands, dried them, and started to head back to join the crowd.

At the last instant, I took a quick look down to make sure nothing was awry. I was startled to find a 2 little spots of water on the front of my pants. Without thinking, I reached down to wipe it off, but that just made it worse. Apparently there was some water on the rim of the sink, and my unnecessarily baggy pants had brushed against it. Since the scrubs were bluish-green, the water showed up quite nicely. My attempts to remove it meant that instead of having a couple of barely noticeable spots of what may or may not have looked like a dribbling incident, my pants looked like I had stopped just short of full-on pissing myself.

With nothing to do about it (my host later informed me that she didn’t have a hair dryer, although that didn’t even occur to me as a solution at the time), I plodded back into the living room and announced to the assembled crowd in as red-faced a way as possible what had happened. I was thoroughly embarrassed, but I decided I would rather laugh with them about it than have them whispering about it and wondering if I knew I had pissed myself. I figured it would dry before long and I could go on enjoying my evening.

Today, my friend sent out a group picture from the pre-party. The first thing I noticed: it looks like Dr. Pepper has pissed himself. Other than that it was a great picture. I’m glad we could save that memory. As is often the case, the point here is probably that I’m an idiot. This time, though, I’m a bumbling, pants-wetting idiot.

Since I’ve always thought it sounded like a term a child would use to describe a bodily function, I should have just claimed I was Dr. P. Diddy. I would have gone together with poop like peas and carrots.

I wish you all a Happy Halloween free of Diddy incidents – real or perceived – on your costumes.