Caesar's Greetings

We got a number of stories out of our recent trip to New Orleans. Here’s one of  'em.

It was Halloween week in New Orleans, and it looked like everybody was going to be in costume. That was the price of participation in this huge celebration all over the city, and it was a fair one. I wasn’t ready.

Kathy had a great red dress with a sugar-skull design, and a matching mask. All I had was a shirt designed with the pattern of the Overlook Hotel, and some blue jeans. It’s a cool shirt, but it wasn’t enough. 

So we went to Mr. Binky’s, a costume shop a couple doors down from our hotel. And it had a TON of costumes: wizards, cops, princesses, devils, vampires, etc. And plenty of accessories: knives, wands, swords, boas, hats, hairpieces, vibrators, dildoes, buttplugs…

Oh, yeah. Mr. Binky’s is also an adult boutique. The costumes kind of take over the store this time of year, but a few racks of the sex toys were still there when we first stopped in. (The next day, they were gone, and the place was as family friendly as it was ever going to get. Which is to say, about 95%; don’t look too closely at the lotions behind the counter, kids.)

I had my eye on a Julius Caesar costume. (Actually, it might have said Augustus Caesar on the package, but why quibble?) There were two reasons for this. One: It was basically a robe, and there are fewer fitting issues with robes than other costumes. And I’m not an easy guy to fit. And even so, I had my doubts that this was going to fit me. 

But looking around, I didn’t have many other options. I didn't want to be a cop. I didn't want to be a clown. And some of the costumes, well… ”racially insensitive” is the kindest way I can categorize them. (Even the wizard costume—a solid choice for me—was titled “Grand Wizard.” I’m sorry, but what? I just wanna be Gandalf, don’t make him sound like he’s in the Klan.)

Ultimately, I didn’t trust the sizing of the Caesar costume, and “all sales final,” as the sign says, so I went with a simple partial Sherlock Holmes costume – a shoulder wrap to suggest his cloak, and a deerstalker hat. I bought a pipe along with it. Kathy bought some costume jewelry to go with her dress, and we were set. 

We got in line and saw our friend Carrie, in the shop for some accessories for her costume. (One of many—Carrie does it up.) We chatted for a while, and she invited us to Bingo Night at the Black Penny, a bar on Rampart. Then she was rung up and left, and we checked out and went back to our hotel.

I looked at my Sherlock Holmes outfit right away, and it turns out it was missing the hat. So I went back, and despite the “all sales final” sign, they found me a kit with a Sherlock Holmes hat and a pipe and magnifying glass. I bought some makeup to go with it, in case I needed it for something. I wasn’t sure what, but I’d need a backup plan in case I couldn’t get the hat. 

OK, fast forward through a great night of music and food, and we decide to end our night at Black Penny Bingo. There are a few rounds left to go. And for the first round we play, the announcer holds up the prize: a Julius Caesar costume. And it has the magic word on it: PLUS. It’s gonna fit me! 

So I take my ticket, and bingo away… and somehow, I win! The costume is mine! Kathy wins the next one, an awesome white commedia dell'arte style mask, similar to a plague mask. So we’re both lucky, and after drinks with Carrie and her friends, both more than a little tipsy. And with the makeup I’ve already bought, I decide to be Great Caesar’s Ghost, a wink at my intrinsic comic nerddom. The Sherlock Holmes costume can stay in the suitcase, and maybe wait until I have a way to make the whole thing work. 

So we dress up—Kathy looks fabulous, and I’m trying my best—and we walk on over to a balcony party in the French Quarter. And once we’re on the street, before we’re a block away from the hotel, someone spots me and says, “Hail, Caesar.” And I, a college-educated person with a liberal arts degree, don’t know how to respond. So I raised my arm in benediction and said the first Caesar-like thing that popped into my head: 

“Pizza! Pizza!”

Rob