Once Upon A Midget

Most of my Halloween costumes blow. For as creative as I claim to be, I often shop last minute through picked over slutty Halloween costumes the day before the holiday. I have been a Border Patrol Agent, a Golddigger, a Sailor Girl, a Cheerleader, and a Zombie Prom Queen. But this year I wanted to be something different...something that people in my small bubble of Naples Island would talk about for years. I have had friends tell me that I remind them of Chelsea Handler so I bought a blonde wig, but now I needed a prop. Belvedere Vodka, the preferred vodka of Chelsea, Ms. Handler if you're nasty, would not be enough. I needed something bigger...yet smaller. So I googled "Renting A Midget." The questions you find yourself asking when inquiring the going rate of a Little Person for chosen evening feels what I like to call "Leaving Vegas and needing at least five showers" dirty. But its all business, and I soon found that Halloween and Christmas are the Little People's biggest holidays. I only had days to decide between a Latino LP named Gaspar and an African American LP that went by the moniker of Five Cent. While the latter was tempting, the aforementioned was more practical.
The big day finally arrived, and I was a ball of nerves. I'm not sure if this is how newly adoptive parents feel, but I was nervous all day, making sure that his nursery, or in Gaspar's case my bedroom full of Magnum condoms and Marlboro Light cigarettes for picture taking were ready. He pulled up like a true gentleman, in an early 2000 model of Ford Taurus with push pedals and a booster seat to make driving easier. He wore a page boy hat and an argyle sweater, and was incredibly sweet. Since I had never rented another human being besides a stripper before, and really they don't count, they are not nearly as special, I found myself very attentive towards' Gaspar's needs. But since he was my bitch for the night, I put him to work. I let my friend Alisha carry him around, I played 'airplane' with him, he carried my bottle of Belvedere around and lit my cigarettes.
All was bliss until the day after the rental...and the six days following that. Gaspar texted, emailed,  Facebook messaged me and my friends, called...and then on the sixth day after I didn't respond, he deleted me as his Facebook friend. I initially went through all of the feelings of grief: sadness, anger, disbelief, finally acceptance. But really...can't a girl just rent a midget and call it a day?