Frankenstein's Girlfriend

9: Brides, Queens and Mashers

Dracula was pouring the blood punch

Wolfman served finger food to munch

Swamp Man said, “This shindig’s a trip!”

But Igor thought the chips could use more brain dip

Dana stood frozen in the echoing hallway of the apartment building, a few feet away from the door to masher party central. She clutched a pair of wax fangs in her sweaty palms, and looked very presentable in her velvety green dress, but Dana worried “presentable” might be a faux pax at a creepy costume party. Though there were two elevators and a set of stairs directly behind her, she felt trapped in this monstrous mausoleum; a corny chorus from the 1960’s chanted her hideous eulogy…

Frankenstein wore a lampshade on his head

The buzz from The Fly was that the party was dead

Drac disagreed and swooped to the dance floor

Joined by The Raven and that wildcat Lenore!

Dana stared at the paper streamer-covered door in silence. In her mind’s eye, she scribbled over the entrance with a fast pro/con list, like a football announcer drawing over an instant replay:

Pros: Appear supportive to a guy I like; infinitesimal chance of making new friends; something about having interesting life experiences?

Cons: These people are really weird on the internet; if anyone at work finds out I’m here, I’ll instantly lose their respect; what if Frank’s friends hate me because I’m not going to make myself look gross on purpose?

Verdict: …

It was a monster shindig

All the villagers fled

They didn’t want to party

With the kooky undead

Frank stood next to Dana, dressed in his snazziest attire: black khakis, black dress shirt and belt with a metal Frankenstein face as a buckle. Perhaps he wasn’t the brightest bulb on Dr. Frankenstein’s re-animation machine, but Frank knew the scared look on Dana’s face. He’d seen that look so many times before.

“We can go bowling,” Frank whispered, disappointment in his voice.

“No, that’s quite alright,” Dana responded, clearing her throat. “I’m looking forward to meeting your friends, who I am confident won’t weird me out.”

When Dana spoke those words, she got upset with herself. Who was she to judge other people’s weirdness? In high school, she was voted “Most… Ambitious?,” the first time an ellipses and a question mark were used as part of a yearbook award in North America. Surely she could muster up a little empathy for a group of misfits.

Then Dana had a flash of inspiration: She’d recruit a new cashier for the Juiceroo at the party! Patrick needed to be replaced, and Dana had seen enough kids sports movies to know that a team’s all-star is often a startling choice, like a little girl from the wrong side of the tracks or an unexpectedly athletic raccoon.

“Come on,” she said.

Emboldened by her new plan to work at the party, Dana grabbed Frank’s wrist and pulled him through the door. He tripped a bit, not anticipating her sudden burst of enthusiasm, but to be fair, Frank rarely anticipated anything correctly. The music became much louder as they stepped through the masher threshold.

It was a monster shindig

All the creatures raved

They’d remember this night