Pink tights

He leaned forward, his hips against the counter, considering what he saw. The tangle of tight blonde curls crowned with a delicate, sparkly, pink tiara. Glittery eyelids and cheeks and lips, all in various shades of pink. The wand, wound up in ribbon, topped by a pink plastic star. Wings, sheer with clear crystals sewn on for added sparkle. And if he looked down, hips covered by the layers of a tutu, also pink. Tights even. Pink ones, of course. All the accouterments for the exact right costume. If he were looking at a girl, 5’3” maybe around fourteen years old. Instead, unfortunately, he was looking in the mirror.

He didn’t want to leave the bathroom. It has seemed like a good idea at the time, when his girlfriend had suggested it as a joke, even when she had brought home all the pieces of the costume, one at a time. Apparently it was hard for her to find things like pink tights and wings designed for a guy who stood 6’4”. Every time she came home successful, she’d been so excited, he hadn’t ever had the guts to chicken out. To tell her that he wasn’t the right kind of guy to wear this get-up and pull it off with confidence. He was too self-conscious to be able to enjoy this kind of humiliation.

But then he thought of how much he loved to watch her face when she laughed. And he did look pretty ridiculous. Intent on making the best of it, he took a deep breath, straightened his tutu and opened the bathroom door. She was in the living room with several of their friends.

“Oh my god,” one of her girlfriends muttered.

His friends didn’t even try to contain their laughter. “Oh, man, that is tragic! You’re pink! Like the damn Easter bunny!”

“I think it’s a funny costume,” one of her other friends said, trying to stick up for him.

His girlfriend walked over and stood in front of him just as he was about to duck out of the room, change into his stand-by costume from years passed: a Batman tee shirt and a cape the consisted of a black bed sheet and a safety pin. She reached around him and straightened his wings. Then she smiled at him. And he knew he wouldn’t change. Humiliation it would be.

“It’s tragicomic. Get over it,” he said to the whole group. “Let’s go.”

She squeezed his hand, and he smiled down at her. He ushered everyone out the door and pulled his trench-style raincoat over his costume. His wings might get crushed, but he wasn’t about to walk down the street without it.

“Damn Tooth Fairy,” he muttered as he pulled the door shut behind him.