How I hate Halloween.
Whenever I go to a Halloween fancy dress party I invariably end up wearing something that turns about to be totally inappropriate.
For three consecutive years I dressed as an historical figure from different countries. Italy, Spain and Germany respectively. You have no idea what divisive characters Mussolini, Franco and Hitler turn out to be.
Another year I dressed as a soldier with a uniform that featured little skulls that I thought would tie in nicely with the Halloween theme. Apparently, after the Price Harry episode it turns out that it’s not just Africa Corps outfits that are deemed inappropriate party dress wear.
Last year I decided to play it safe and went as a ghost. This was about the same time as the whole vampire mania thing started to take over film and TV and so I decided to take a large wooden cross to “ward off”all those who would inevitably be dressed as vampires. On the way into the party the large cross knocked over one of the carved pumpkins by the front door and the candle inside set the wooden cross on fire. Looking back I suppose the sheet over my head did look a bit “pointy” but I still think the whole episode was blown entirely out of proportion.
This year, however, was the worst one ever.
It was an event run by the local law society and it is no exaggeration to say I was virtually lynched the moment I walked through the door. I had to flee the building in fear for my life. As soon as the fancy dress shop opens this morning I’m going straight back to demand a full refund on the Lord Justice Jackson costume.