Halloween Debauch? Go METRO!

[tags]halloween, metro, red line, costumes, los angeles, hollywood[/tags]

Pork chops are always strapped for cash, good thing Metro now takes debit cards. Credit Flickr jesusskateboarding.com

Didn’t dress up this year? Didn’t get a pillowcase and beg for candy only to be let down by an apple? Didn’t think, you know what, I’m going as an ironic icon from the early ’90s? Answer no to all of these? If so then I hope you at least decided to ride around on Metro’s pride and joy Red Line last night because boy oh boy was that a site to see.

As we’ve all been accustomed to by living the public transit life, the Red Line, though packed to near capacity during peak hours, nights are usually much more docile. Nights greet our beloved subway with a calm hand and soothing massage. She’s (our subway’s, like boats, female) not working all that hard and is allowed to cruise through the serene LA underground in comfort. Sure, some guy might be eating sunflowers and spitting the shells out on the seat next him, and a group of kids might be swinging around on her hand rails like strippers, but for the most part, she’s got it made in the shade. However, most nights are not Halloween nights. Cuz on Halloween nights, bitch has gotta work.

Since I spent the entire weekend in a costumed stupor I decided to take last night off and just ride around to see all the debauchery through sober lenses rather than a cloud of alcohol and wigs. I knew there were crazy old good times happening in Hollywood so I decided why not go there first, and I was right. I got all I could truly ask for and Metro gave me a front seat to it all.

At first, when going down the escalators to 7th/Metro station, I feared that I might be let down by it all. That everyone would be doing their normal insane routine of driving to the party so they could drive drunk on the way home. Because hell, driving drunk in bumper-to-bumper traffic isn’t really driving drunk, right? However, when I reached the final descent to the platform such fears were quickly dashed away for below me was a sea of strangers. An entire platform, and I mean from end to end, was full of every type of person you could think of dressed as every type of thing you could think of. It was awesome and chaotic and frenzied and fun all at once and I immediately regretted letting a friend borrow my camera over the weekend. There were at least five announcements in five minutes to stay behind the “black line” and one announcement threatening an arrest of someone for doing god knows what. It felt like a weird government experiment on which costumes provoked the most insanity and therefore would be banned the following the year.

At 9:42pm the train rolled on in with screams of joy from the Wizard of Oz crew and the hoard boarded fanatically. Wisely, Metro kept all the train cars on after rush hour so I was able to grab a seat in one of the last ones before the hoard, who couldn’t fit in the middle cars, came rushing on.

Next to me sat down, what I gathered from the gray ears and poorly drawn on whiskers, a rabbit, if not at least some sort of woodland creature whose breasts showed signs of falling out. When she asked me why I wasn’t dressed up I safely avoided her perks and answered with the kind of eye contact they teach at a Tony Robbins convention. She still seemed bummed so I let her know that her costume was great, which was obviously what she was looking for from me, and we spoke no more. All around were kids dressed as superheroes and cheerleaders and teens dressed as, what still seems to be one of the most re-created face make-up jobs ever, the Crow. Parents held tightly to their mini Draculas while everyone else tried to avoid gawking at the beautiful and busty Latina dressed as a Playboy bunny. Most, including myself and two Scientologists (curses! we have something in common), failed.

Finally we arrived at the biggest destination spot, Hollywood and Highland. Leaving the train took some effort for the bunny rabbit girl next to me was fighting with her Jack the Pumpkin King boyfriend, but with a bit of extra shoving everyone successfully made it off. (Wtf? It’s like we’re in NYC?) Blocking the escalator was a woman screaming at everyone for being rude. And though her 200+ lb girth and witch’s hat were intimidating, it did nothing to scare off the mass of goblins, hot dogs, nurses, cowboys, cowgirls, apes, and my favorite of the night, each member of Guns’ and Roses. But where was Bucket Head, I wondered?

Atop Hollywood and Highland was the same insanity only louder because of the millions of car horns going off and fanatics preaching the bible, which could’ve just been a really good costume. Cross and hellfire and all! Hollywood was truly alive. All the usual performers were out there, which didn’t make any sense to me seeing as there were now a handful of Darth Vaders, Spidermen, Marilyn Monroes, and an endless number of Jack Sparrows mingling about. I would assume that of all nights for the regulars to take off, it should most definitely be Halloween. But they were all out there as usual and Shrek seemed to be getting the most attention.

The night passed like this for some time and after visiting a friend, getting some food down the road at Scooby’s, I realized it was nearly 12:45am and the last train heading east was at 1:02. So I headed back and descended casually down the escalators with the last of the late night stragglers. Ahead of me was a girl dressed as Eve, meaning she went as Naked, and her destitute squaw girl friend too poor to pay for fabric, though the boots seemed to be quite expensive. Needless to say I enjoyed the escalator ride more than I’ve enjoyed any escalator ride ever I’d say—though there was that one time—and the slew of guys hooting and hollering them out had never enjoyed buying a Metro ticket so much in their lives I’m sure either. But the two girls and their two less than hollered at friends were fearless and no amount of calls hindered their monumental Metro sex appeal and even if it had, right passed the ticket machines were two LA Sheriff’s posting up for just such an occasion. It wasn’t necessary, these two girls were more intimidating than anyone I’d seen all night, but it’s always nice to have that reassurance.

The platform was full again and the fun times continued and I wished I had dressed up after all. But watching it I was content all the same. A costume and light and sex show for a mere $2.50. That’s cheaper than Amsterdam. Halloween by way of Metro truly is the answer. Aside from all the drunk driving and traffic and expensive parking, it’s just so much more fun to experience the thousands upon thousands doing the same. Now just imagine if we had that Pink line to WeHo going.