2002-11-01 - 10:11 a.m.

Overfull from the blur of salsa dancing and beer from a poorly rinsed pint glass, I escaped to the ladies' room. There was a woman waiting by the sink, talking to her friend who had just gone in one of the stalls. She was dressed as a devil, in a slinky dress with authentic-looking horns coming from her forehead, rather than the typical cutesy headband.

"What are you dressed as?" she asked me.

"Oh, I'm the floor of a movie theater." I was a little weary from explaining what I was dressed as all evening.

"That's great," she said. "You know what I wanted to do? I'm a bartender here, so I couldn't, but I wanted to wear all black and stick cotton balls on me. And then when people asked me what I was, I'd spray them with a squirt bottle and tell them, 'partly cloudy with a chance of showers.'"

"That's great!" I said., as her friend emerged from one of the toilet stalls.

"Yeah, well," she said dismissively. "Go ahead, hun, they're both free."

"Oh, uh, thanks," I said, as I walked into the stall.

current music: Red House Painters, "All Mixed Up."

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