A few mates in me had managed to secure an invite to a Halloween house party.

We didn't really know anyone else there having only secured the invite because one of

us worked with a girl whose student house it was.

But since it was literally the only house party we could actually get into, we weren't

arguing.

A big thing about house parties is, the older you get, the harder it is to find a good

one.

Most people make their big house party mistake earlier in life and they'll never ever

have one again.

So the idea won big hurrah before we started on that late 20s, early 30s, quiet drinks,

bollocks, was wildly appealing.

You agreed to meet up in my flat for some pre-drinks and get changed into our various

costumes.

Fancy dress was a must, according to our mates colleague.

You have never seen such awful Halloween costumes in all your life.

One lad just bought a wig and badly applied his mum's makeup, claiming to be frank and

fatter from Rocky Horror Picture Show.

But without having the stones to rent the suspenders in corset, he just looked like

he was in the middle of a bad sex change.

Another fella just threw on some old army cadet gear so he could be a soldier or whatever.

But it had been a good couple of years since he'd last put it on and he was considerably

wider around the waist.

...