![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKycqoN4c132w9fIs_98VQuKLg0V6pu80Eq-VROisrXpGHP8BmdGmGpcrGZFxskKHOJkikFyBWi6N5cTPTFrcbZatM8x2ymUHvAgO1gHj_qqt3MTdJMVuCSLCDo5c5rVG5lVyco3rkhrM/s320/Bee+Costume.jpg)
The first year I wore it, my stinger was molested repeatedly
and my buddy’s sister thought I was gay. I don’t think she understood how “the
Birds and the Bees” worked*.
The second year, I went to a Halloween party that coincided
with Game 5 of the Detroit Tigers vs. St. Louis Cardinals World Series. When
the Cardinals won, there was no hesitation: we had to go downtown. So we went.
And it was amazing. We were minor celebrities and it was ridiculously easy to
find each other.
Me: Has
anyone seen Rainbow Brite?
Stranger: Was
she with an Iron Sheik?
Me: Yes!
Stranger: They
went that way.
*Hey-o!