I'm having an odd costume season this year.
A few days ago, I was working on my very pink, very cutesy wand for my Halloween costume (Princess Star Butterfly, for those of you not watching the excellent cartoon Star Vs. The Forces of Evil) on my way home from work today when an obviously recently divorced dad (if his bitter-sounding phone call as he was entering the bus was any indication) and his two very young, very cute daughters, neither of whom could be older than five, sat down in seats near mine.
They’d obviously just gone Halloween shopping at Target as the two girls were swinging brightly colored, pumpkin-shaped trick-or-treat bags.
The younger girl turned and noticed what I was working on. She asked me about it. I lied and told her that I was making a costume piece for my niece (it just felt so odd admitting to a three-year-old that, as a thirty-something, I was cosplaying as a fourteen-year-old space princess).
The older one turned to see what her sister was looking at. She asked me where I got it, so she could get one too. I told her that I made it and that you couldn’t buy it in a store.
The younger girl then asked, if she couldn't get one of her own, if she could have it.
I told her again that it was for my niece.
She told me very matter-of-factly that she was dressing up for Halloween as a fairy and that my wand was better than the wand she already had. I thanked her, but repeated that the wand was for my niece.
She repeated that my wand was better than hers and that she wanted mine more.
Very loudly.
The dad noticed and told the girls that the wand was mine and that they had one at home. Which I thought would be the end of it.
It wasn't.
And, to be fair, the little girl seemed very calm and rational-sounding.
Right up until she wasn't.
The younger girl started to cry, saying she wanted THAT one.
Which made the other one start to cry.
The dad and I just stared at each other in panic while these two girls cried, neither of us knowing what to do.
I could feel the whole bus judging me.
I’m a monster.
The dad gave me a pained look and offered me $20 for my wand. I looked a him incredulously; I held it up, with only one wing half-sewn on, and pointed out that it’s not even done yet.
He looked at his daughters and pointed out that he didn’t really think they cared. I told him no; it’s for my niece.
He offered $30.
I still told him no.
I felt so bad. Because he just seemed like he's not used to being the primary caregiver and this was his first time being in-charge of the kids. He seemed like a very "here, honey" type parent when the kids get difficult. He was trying, but woefully ill-equipped.
The girls cried for full three stops until the dad told them that they needed to head to the front of the bus because their stop was next. He corralled the two crying girls to the front of the bus only to have the driver tell him that their stop is the next one.
So they had to shuffle off to the side, while the other passengers tried to maneuver around the two miserable children and their harried father. The bus driver tried to cheer them up by letting them ring the bell, but it didn't help.
That was the weirdest, most panic-inducing compliment ever.
Then, today, I decided to dress up as Closet-Cosplay Maleficent, using my Iron Bull horns, which I thought was a fun way to upcycle another costume.
But then, on my way from Target to the office, a very booze-filled, unkempt man on the escalator kept asking me if my name was "Jemma," if I knew him, and if I was evil.
I debated telling him no but, after having thoroughly botched the wand debacle, that just seemed poorly out of the spirit of the season, so I just smiled and nodded.
I think I made the right decision.
Happy Halloween, everyone!
No comments:
Post a Comment