Hello, Stranger

"See you there, Stranger!" I called.

"Yes, Love," my husband replied.

"Not yet, silly."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Later, Stranger."

He went in the house. It always took him longer to prepare. I checked the car mirror to make sure my mustache was perfectly centered. Yep.

No, I'm not a man. I just play one annually. My husband and I met at a Halloween costume party. I was dressed as David Bowie. He was dressed as Marilyn Monroe. We hit it off right away. We thought it would be funny if we kissed on the dance floor. Once we connected, it was like we were Superglued together. People did laugh. We ignored them and went on with our prolonged kiss. We were inseparable from then on.

Ever since that year, we attend a Halloween party dressed in drag. We would wait for one of us to get hit on and then the other came to "the rescue," staking our claim. Of course, there were years when neither of us got any hits, so we just met anyway. Our friends, especially Mary and Scott, would have us committed if they could, but we have a great time. What's the harm?

This year, we chose a party at one of our favorite bars, Donovan's. The owner and his husband, Rick, are good friends of ours.

I gave a thumbs up to a couple dressed as Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head.

Don smiled as I sidled up to the bar. "Hi there. What's your name, luv?" He winked.

"Kate..I mean..." I cleared my throat and spoke in a lover register, "Carson."

"Well, Carson, what's your pleasure this evening? Perhaps a rum and coke?"

"What a great guess! Are you psychic?"

"No, I just know how to read people." He added in a whisper, "I have a great memory too. That reserved table you requested for you and Will is in the far corner."

"Thanks, Don."

"Anything for you, Kate... Carson!" He imitated my vocal change, making me chuckle.

I kept watching the front door for a blond bombshell. Will surprised me again by choosing to be a brunette this year. "She" went to the other end of the bar with barely a glance in my direction. It was all I could do to pry my eyes away. I stared at my drink instead. How could such a handsome guy make me jealous of how beautiful he was as a woman? It just wasn't fair.

A man's voice snapped me out of my reverie. "Hello, handsome. I'm Chris. May I sit?"

This was new. I'd never been hit on by a gay man. I rolled with it. "Of course. I'm Carson. Where are you from?"

"Right here in Philly. You?"

"The same." I smiled.

We talked about theater and art, which just happen to be two of my passions. I glanced in Will's direction. "She" had a guy hanging on "her" every word. We had never been hit on at the same time before. I experienced a moment of panic. How was I supposed to rescue him and he, me? This man, charming as he was, was certainly stronger than me. What if he tried something? Chris grabbed my arm suddenly, startling me and adding to the panic. He said, "I see a friend from my theater club. Come with me. He took my hand and led me right to Will and his "companion."

Chris said, "Carson, allow me to introduce my friend, Samuel. Sam, who's your beautiful lady?"

Sam beamed, "This is Wilma. She works in real estate."

My jaw dropped. Will had given his real occupation. That broke one of our rules.

Sam saw my open mouth. He said, "I know, Honey, it's boring, but I'll bet she makes good money, and she likes theater, so I like her already." He put his hand on "Wilma's”possessively.

I smiled. "No, it's just that my ex was in real estate too. Nice to meet you, Sam."

"Charmed, Carson." Sam nodded.

Will said to me, "Surely you didn't write off a loving partner for being in real estate?"

I mumbled, "That remains to be seen." Aloud, I said, "I reserved a table in the corner. Let's all have fun tonight!"

People all around cheered and hooted.

I stepped aside for someone dressed as an alien with an astronaut by his side. I did a double take. They were our friends, Mary and Scott.

"Gotcha!" Mary declared.

"Huh?" I was confused.

"We put Sam and Chris up to this. They really are from our theater club. We wanted to show you that this isn't really fair to the people who show an interest in you, and it's not necessarily safe."

Scott added, "If you anger the wrong person, you may put yourselves in danger."

I sighed, "Point taken." I looked at Will. "What do you think, Wilma? Should we figure out a different way to celebrate the anniversary of our meeting?"

He said with a wry smile, "Let's keep the costumes and leave out the hook-ups. Will that compromise please everyone?"

Everyone nodded. I hugged my Wilma, and we had a great time with our friends, old and new.

Author’s note: The two photos above are of me and my late husband, enjoying Halloween, doctored with the use of ChatGPT.