Things are never how they appear on Halloween.

My companion at an exclusive downtown bar amazed me with their ability to keep up for hours with my rare weatherhuman dance attack. The person didn’t even flinch when I went for the martial arts portion of the routine.

Eventually I realized the person’s dance repertoire was missing an important step – I believe the kids call it “freaking.”

Then their mask shifted for the first time all night and I caught the crow’s feet around the eyes.

But just because the person turned out to be as old as my parents doesn’t mean it’s wrong that we had a good time together.

Monday’s forecast: It wasn’t wrong until I received “a shiny quarter for a job well done.” So wrong.