Halloween 2017

Re: When was the last time Taylor Sirard took a bathroom mirror selfie?

I don't often pose in front of a bathroom mirror to photograph myself, but this past October presented a unique opportunity.

[Image: A woman stands holding a camera and a large drink tumbler. She is wearing a bucket hat, Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses, and a fanny pack. The room is decorated for Halloween with fake blood dripping down the wall and bloody handprints.]  

I know what you're thinking: How did Taylor end up in such a bloody bathroom, and why does she look like a cross between Hunter S. Thompson and a middle-aged cruise attendee? The circumstances surrounding this seflie provided even more photo opportunities worth sharing. Enjoy.

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My dear friends Collin and Tristian had invited me to their new apartment in Bay City, Michigan. Our resident cities were three hundred miles apart, but we've remained close over the couple years of our friendship. We were in for a weekend of quality fun before I left to travel much further away in Bernadette.

Meet Collin:

[Image: A man sits in front of a red brick wall. He is smiling with a tilted head and a lime wedge in his mouth blocking out his teeth.]

I've actually known the goof for much longer than two years. When we were in middle school our parents dated. Somewhere in the dark corners of the internet remain the old YouTube videos we made together. Our channel includes a call for a dance competition to a FloRida song, yet to have any entries. I wish I were joking about that.

After our parents split, we didn't see or talk to each other for about six years. We happened to grow up similar enough anyway and reunited at a music festival in 2015. So began our friendship on our own terms.

Less than a year later Collin introduced me to a girl he was seeing, Tristian. Here she is practicing in our family band:

[Image: A woman stands with the handle of a güiro(cylindrical, wooden washboard instrument) in her mouth. With a joyous expression is on her face, she holds the güiro stick in her right hand just in front of the instrument.]

I got to know her at the 2016 run of the beforementioned music festival when we all went together. If I'm not mistaken, that is when Collin and Tristian officially started dating. Regardless, it was when I officially realized Tristian is the shit. There's nothing better than when your friends have partners who also become your friends.

I couldn't talk about my Bay City friends without mentioning DaVon:

[Image: From a low angle photograph shows a man looking over his shoulders with a broad smile. He wears a backward baseball cap, glasses, and a striped t-shirt.]

We met when he used to room with Collin. I make sure to threaten him to show up every time I'm in town and he eventually, if begrudgingly, makes an appearance.

On the first night of my visit, the four of us went to downtown Bay City. First, we arrived at a karaoke bar. We collectively recalled a previous visit when DaVon had won a Santa Claus costume. Unable to contain his excitement, he'd put it on immediately, the pants cutting well above his ankles. Collin pulled up the old Snapchat of DaVon shouting, "Ho, ho, ho," as a dash of red flashed across the screen. As Collin's phone was passed around the table, we laughed in succession. 

Disappointed nobody was singing karaoke, we left for a different location, a cigar bar called Stables. A row of lounge rooms and sliding, iron-bar doors lined the left side of the main bar area. The bar's namesake comes from the history of these rooms as horse stables. We each ordered a drink, picked out a cigar and found an unoccupied stable. 

I don't recall when Tristian's friend, Danté, joined us. However, he was there when we all sat down on one of the leather couches or stately armchairs. I unashamedly took photos of the near-stranger soon after.

[Image: A low brightness photo shows the contour of a man taking a puff of a cigar. He sits in front of a red brick wall.]

Mom (Tristian) had some trouble lighting her cigar.

[Image: A woman holds a cigar in her mouth. In her hand is a lit match a half an inch closer to her face than the end of the cigar. The flame partially illuminates her face and hand, while the rest of the image is dark.]

After several failed attempts, during which I opted to document instead of help, Danté stepped in.

With everyone's cigar finally lit, we were free to converse. We punctuated our sentences by puffs of tobacco and accented our words with extravagant gestures traced in smoke. 

While I smoked my cigar, what I said felt more important. With a fat stogie in hand, I became some mock cowboy/CEO/mafia man. The burning prop dwindled until I stubbed it out, wondering, "Who do I pretend to be now?"

We left Stables and climbed three stories up a nearby fire escape of an abandoned building. The metal stairs gave a shake and creak with each footstep. From the topmost platform was a ladder attached to the side of the building. As I grasped the side rails and looked up I took a deep breath, syncing into the character of someone unafraid of heights. My faux-bravery pulled me onto each rung, over the brick ledge, and onto the rooftop.

After taking in the view, we climbed back down one level to an open entryway. Inside were four floors of broken glass and amateur graffiti. On the main level, in what seemed to be the old foyer I found a piano. The keys were drastically out of tune, but I played a song anyways. 

We returned to the apartment at a reasonable hour. It was important we got proper rest for the weekend's main event: a Halloween party the following evening. 

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The next day Tristian and I hopped thrift stores to complete our costumes. I sifted through Hawaiian shirts while Tristian searched for a white skirt. We continued our preparation with Collin and DaVon that evening. 

It was a collaborative DIY frenzy:

Step one- Cut off bottom half of Davon's T-shirt

Step two- Wrap large wire "W" in golden thread for Collin

Step three- Throw empty shopping bags, price tags, and clothes EVERYWHERE

Step four- Help Tristian neatly curl the end of Collin's hair

Step five- Tell DaVon the first pair of sweatpants he tried on look best

Step six- Don't inhale the poisonous aroma from the aerosol can of green hair color 

Step seven- See how hard we can make each other laugh by our appearance

Step eight- embrace new "Vacation Dad" persona by gathering everyone for a group photo

To my right, Willy Wonka and one of his Oompa Loompa's, followed by the Fresh Prince of Bel Air (a.k.a. Will Smith.) This photograph marked my enthusiastic commitment to stay in Vacation Dad character the remainder of the night. At the expense of annoying my friends, I was determined to win the costume contest primarily through acting.

I climbed into the back seat of the car, widened my knees, and stretched my arm over the headrest. On the way over I addressed everyone in nicknames like "son" or "pal." Although I wasn't driving, I remember threatening to "turn this car around," multiple times.

When we arrived at the party, Medusa greeted us at the door and invited us to sign the bible-turned guestbook. I passed through the fully decorated kitchen to a room that housed a DJ booth in the corner. Plastic skeletons hung from the ceiling and orange string lights were pinned to the wall. I ventured outside and into the garage which had been transformed into a carnival tent. Red and white striped wall coverings were hung and a classic popcorn machine was running. Every room I saw had Halloween themed decor, even the bathroom (see that mirror selfie for proof.)

Eventually, I found the guestbook perched on a table next to faux candlesticks. In the same room was a ballet box labeled "Costume Contest." Seeing the box refocused me on my mission to dad my way around the party.

I approached my friends, heartily slapping them on the back or shaking them by the shoulders. I greeted strangers with a, "Hey, Champ!" Will Smith had the genius idea for me to wear a nametag reading, "Hi hungry, my name is Dad." I recall telling him at some point to do as I say and not as I do. 

My primary bit was repeatedly telling people to pose for a family photo. I made sure to keep the flash on and always announce, "Say cheese!" before snapping a haphazard portrait. The first photo session went better than I could have planned. In true Vacation Dad form, I forgot I had left the ten-second timer on. I feigned embarrassment and made everyone wait for me to "figure out this darn thing" and take another picture. 

Throughout the night I caught a few other photos that are worthy of the family album.

Although my efforts to act my way to victory went mostly unnoticed, I had myself a darn good time. 

When the party died down we returned to Tristian and Collin's apartment. Contrarily, we had not died down. Will Smith and Willy Wonka had a wrestling match while music played through a set of floor speakers. We soon heard a knock on the front door. Somebody pointed out it was four am. Collin guiltily admitted the people living downstairs were not too fond of their new neighbors. 

"Wear the goggles," I suggested (in poor taste others might suggest.) DaVon encouraged Collin further, and eventually...

Antics aside, Wonka apologized and we lowered our noise to a respectful level. I changed out of my Vacation Dad attire, not entirely ready to abandon the act. Before we went to sleep, one final moment was captured. As Collin and I sat out on the stoop, for a reason I don't recall, I asked him to take a photo of me. I stirred up a cocktail of the personas lingering within me and struck a pose.

Sometimes I don't know what show I am putting on and who it is for. It's easy for that thought to motivate negative self-talk, but surrounding myself with people who appreciate my strange play snuffs it out. To my Bay City loves, thank you for that. To Halloween of 2017, thank you for being my stage. 

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