I was standing before a wall of Halloween costumes when a girl approached me. She was heavy-set and dark-skinned and dressed like she belonged at a Renaissance Fair. “Can I help you find anything?” she asked.
“No, thanks,” I said, “just trying to get ideas.”
“Okay,” she smiled. Before she could walk away, I asked her if she knew what she was going to be for Halloween.
“Nah, man,” she said, “we just sold my costume. I’m so bummed. We just sold it.”
“What were you going to be?” I asked.
“I was gonna be Chinese. I was gonna be all ‘Konnichiwa’ and everything,” she said, putting her palms together and bowing before me. “Now I don’t know what I’m going to be.”
Japanese? I thought.