Tara

The Boy: Halloween White Kid

I realize that a lot of these stories have been about Halloween. I’ll analyze why sometime later when I’m drunk and get back to you…

Both Tara’s apartment building and the company where she works are located in lower-enough Manhattan to have had their electricity completely fucked during Hurricane Sandy. For an entire week.

Electricity gets completely fucked for an entire week? Tara gets completely fucked up for an entire week.

Ha ha? No? Not funny. Oh. 

More clearly written (or at least written in a way that isn’t so forced just because I was trying to use a pun), Tara gets highly intoxicated every day for a week because she doesn’t have to act like an adult and go to work or make her bed. Tara and her roommate crash at Tara’s older sister’s apartment on the Upper East Side for the week. Like drunken refugees.

I feel like the Manhattan gods were like “Hey UES, I’ll cut you a break. You’ve had a rough couple of years now. Your rep has, like, totally gone to shit. When people watch Gossip Girl nowadays, they probably can’t possibly understand how Blair Waldorf lives there. And no one believes that person who keeps insisting that the area is ‘up and coming.’ So, I’m not going to destroy you during Hurricane Sandy. In fact, I’m not even going to touch you. Gross.”

The Manhattan gods are kind of dicks, eh?

Anyhoo- The week of Hurricane Sandy was also the week of Halloween. Tara and her roommate left their Halloween costume shopping until the last minute, which means that they didn’t get to go Halloween costume shopping. At least in the traditional sense.

Tara and her roommate walk back to their apartment late in the afternoon on the Saturday of Halloween weekend. By the time they get there, it’s pretty dark. Less than 10 minutes until it’s completely dark… less than 10 minutes to look in their closets and see what costume they can pull together with the clothes that they already own.

Time’s up.

Tara’s roommate grabs her deceased grandmother’s short-haired wig, jorts, Merrells, and an Obama pin. Her costume- ‘androgynous, liberal person who likes to hike.’ I think.

Tara grabs every cheetah-print thing she owns, from shoes+socks to neck scarf. Her costume- ‘ [also androgynous] cheetah.’ Duh. (“I’m a mouse. Duh.”)

After Tara and her roommate get dressed to go out that night, Tara’s brother-in-law says to them, “There is absolutely no way that both of you will go home with a guy looking like that.” *judgmental finger point up-to-down*

Really, bro-in-law? Game on. GAME ON.

To end the story about Tara’s roommate ‘cuz this story ain’t about her- Tara’s roommate did not end up going home with a guy that night. Instead, a guy went home with her. To her apartment located in, if you don’t remember, lower-enough Manhattan to have had its electricity completely fucked. He climbed 17 flights of stairs to bone her. Something he probably would not have done if he knew she was only half-decent at boning. Hindsight’s 20/20.

Back to Tara…

Tara sees a boy at the bar who is totes bangable. She makes her move. He is dressed as one of the Droogs from Clockwork Orange. See reference below:

When they exchange numbers, Tara, drunk, saves his number in her phone as ‘Halloween White Kid.’ I guess, at the time, she thought that was a differentiating enough way to describe someone she meets at a bar in New York City. I don’t know…

Tara goes home with Halloween White Kid (‘HWK’ for short from now on). Once in his apartment, HWK takes Tara by the hand and leads her to his bedroom a closet. Huh? Tara’s confused. Then, HWK parts the jackets hanging in the closet like a sauced Moses parting the water in the goddamn Red Sea. And there beyond lies a room.

A room with no floors. With just a mattress bordered by all 3 walls, like a bay bordering land. It’s wallpaper, red and floral-printed. And fluorescent lights suspended from the ceiling, illuminating, in neon, the wallpaper’s floral-print design.

While making out, HWK keeps trying to turn Tara in the opposite direction, so that she’s not facing him. That’s cute, Tara thinks, but she doesn’t want to spoon quite yet, (gurl’s feeling Xtra frisky 2night, y’all) so she resists and keeps turning back around to continue kissing him. This happens over and over again. And over again.

Then, a little later, Tara sobers up enough to realize that she’s in a fucking sex dungeon and wants to get out the fuck out of it. Pronto. Plus, she wants McDonalds. Pronto. So, she gets the fuck out of it, leaves his apartment, goes to the nearest Mickey D’s, spends a weird amount of money there, and cabs it back to her sister’s apartment at 4am.

The next day, over a hearty breakfast of shit-they-took-from-their-apartment’s-freezer (hotdogs, prob), Tara’s roommate casually said something that ended up being quite revealing. Turns out, Tara’s roommate, and the boy she ended up boning later that night, both saw HWK make out with a dude earlier in the night. Yet still, they allowed- no, encouraged– Tara to go home with him.

Tara realizes HWK didn’t really want to spoon.

So, in the end, Tara proved her brother-in-law wrong. She got her McFlurry and ate it too.

I’m not totally sure that this means that she won…