A Jellyfish Halloween

When my husband, Taylor, and I were dating, my dear friend Kristin would throw a Halloween party at the Greenhouse Bar in Nashville, Tennessee. I absolutely loved it, as Halloween was one of my favorite holidays. Any chance for a creative costume was right up my alley. Taylor, on the other hand, dreaded Halloween. He hated a costume. And his number one rule was no dressing like a girl, so my Judd’s idea was out the window. He would have made a perfect Winona, though.

I knew I would have to get creative. I had to figure out a costume I could convince Taylor to wear that was good enough to be in the running for the top prize of one hundred dollars. Now, mind you, it was around 2008, and most of the creative costumes you can find on the internet nowadays were not available. The standard pumpkins, clowns, cheerleader, or football players were about all you could find. Although, the ridiculous sexy kitten or trashy Tarzan lady were options if you wanted to get awarded “most likely to catch a cold or venereal disease” on Halloween. Those were not the prizes I was going for.

I thought for about a week and decided I needed to make sure Taylor had a costume he didn’t have to put too much effort into and could easily take off if I wanted him to attend the party with me. I played around with a few ideas but finally landed on a simple jellyfish. It was perfect. I could convince him to dress up with me by making the bulk of the costume out of a hat.

I booked it to Michael’s craft store to gather the supplies. I found two wide brimmed hats, multiple rolls of iridescent cellophane, bubble wrap, a stapler, and shimmery ribbon of all widths and lengths for the tentacles. Once I had all the materials, I drove home to create the masterpieces.

I fastened bubble wrap to the top of the hats in order to achieve the height. Then, I wrapped the entire body of the hat in iridescent cellophane and stapled it underneath. Finally, I took the different ribbon and attached them at all lengths around the edge of the hat, letting them fall down near the knees. Voila! The costume that I could convince Taylor to wear was created. And I knew we would be a top contender for that one hundred dollars.

The night of the Halloween party finally arrived, and the two jellyfishes were officially in the running for best costume. Taylor begrudgingly wore the hat, but would take breaks from time to time to “let his head breathe”. The cocktails flowed and the music played on well into the night, and right at midnight, the announcement for top three costumes came over the microphone.

“Third place- Peg Bundy!” (Peg had left long before as she was overserved and was nowhere to be found).

“Second place- Top Gun!” Our friend, Robbie, had won with his flight gear. At least I think he won second place.

“And finally, the grand prize for best costume goes to… the jellyfish!” announced the deejay.

I screamed with delight! I had never won a costume contest before, and you would have thought I won the lottery. Although with the fresh one hundred dollar bill, I actually felt like I had. I was thrilled, Taylor was apathetic, and we continued to celebrate my top prize. Eventually, I made my way home via yellow cab to sleep off the thrill of the win. I’d pick up my car the following day.

As twenty-seven year olds with no major responsibilities normally do after a night of celebration, I slept until about noon the next day. I ordered lunch with my roommates and rested my tired dancing legs on the couch, with no plans to do anything productive for the rest of the day. About six o’clock that night, Taylor arrived at the house bringing dinner for a group of tired girls, and simply asked, “Where’s your car?”

I had been so preoccupied by the win of the night before, I had completely forgotten I left my car in the lot across the street from the Greenhouse Bar. “Oh man, I forgot. Will you take me to get it?” I asked my annoyed boyfriend.

Taylor obliged, and we hopped in his truck to head to my lonely little Honda accord. Only, when we pulled into the parking lot, it was nowhere to be found. “Where’s my car?” I asked Taylor, assuming he would know.

Taylor quietly thought then looked around at the signage throughout the space. “If I had to guess, West Nashville Wrecker has it,” he replied while pointing to the tow away sign.

I was too tired to face the idiotic mistake I had made. I’m pretty sure I shed a couple of tears, too. (Which is ridiculous thinking back on it.) Taylor took a right out of the parking lot and headed across town to West Nashville Wrecker. I was so mad at myself, I was fuming inside. I was also exhausted from lack of sleep and didn’t want to deal with my rookie mistake. Taylor dropped me at the front and waited as I spoke with the unforgiving woman in the trailer of the wrecker lot, where my sweet little accord was being held hostage.

Shelia in the single wide trailer (at least I think that was her name) was unconcerned about why I needed to pick up my car. For some reason, I thought she would find an ounce of grace between a couple of puffs of Marlboro reds, and simply hand over the keys, as I explained what happened. I even told her about the jellyfish costume and winning the top prize of one hundred dollars. Surely Shelia had found herself in a similar predicament and would understand?

“You’re gonna have to pay to get it out,” Sheila said in a scolding smoker’s voice.

“Really? You can’t just give me a pass this time? Like a get out of jail free card?”

Shelia stared at me unamused. She took a deep drag off the red, then replied, “A hundred dollars.”

I sighed. A hundred dollars. “There goes my winnings from the costume contest,” I thought to myself. I reached in my purse and found the wrinkled up one hundred dollar bill and handed it over to Sheila. She left her perch and went back to a room, only to return with my keys and what quite possibly could have been taken as a smile.

“Now aren’t you glad you won that contest?” Sheila asked as she handed over the keys.

I thought to myself and realized I should have never told Shelia about the events the night before. After all, I basically told her what she should charge me to get my car back into my possession.

That weekend I learned some important lessons:

- You can absolutely win a contest if you put enough effort into it.

- The tow away warning signs in parking lots really aren’t just a joke.

- Don’t ever tell people more than they need to know.

Shelia was right, though. I was very glad I won that contest so I could get my car back. And the weekend made for some pretty good memories. These days, you can find a good ole jellyfish costume on the World Wide Web, or you can get as creative as you want and make you own by a quick trip to the craft store. Just make sure you check where you park.

Hunting Widow

Discount Lumber Love