No greater risk/reward exists in the Halloween world outside the thrift store trip. In college, a sorority we partied with (yes, I did use party as a verb) had a “Pimps and Prostitutes party each year. I got a fur trimmed overcoat, vest, butterfly collar shirt, fake gold, flat dress shoes and even a croched hat for $20. The perfect add was polyester burgundy pants so tight I couldn’t bend at the knee without the button unsnapping. $1. Just $1 to ruin everyone’s night. Awesome.
Of course, the problem is that you have no idea what trashy smack addict stole these clothes off another possibly dead crack addict to pawn them off in the first place. There’s one near my place now that has the dirtiest glass windows and doors I’ve ever seen. Not exactly helping assuage my fears…is that a face print on the glass door? Slobber? I’m going to cover myself in sanitizer first and get a broomhandle with a hook on the end so I don’t have to touch this shit. Then again, I just got a black pleather coat for $5.33 that I’m going to cut the sleeves off of – don’t ask, it’s Halloween.