Boo! It’s a man with romantic intentions

The UC Santa Barbara spooky season has come to a close (literally, like an eight-day noise ordinance close), and everyone has just returned from a questionable visit to their ex-boyfriend’s fraternity at San Diego State University or an awkward weekend with their hometown friend because they needed a place to crash at UC Berkeley. Now that the chaos has wound down, I think it’s time to reminisce because, I for one, am still reeling.

Naturally, one would assume the costume choices and levels of intoxication would be the scariest things about UCSB’s Halloween weekend. Genuinely — envisioning a man in a backward jersey and hat dressed as steez, double-fisting beer and performing for the male gaze, sends a shiver down my spine. But the costume choices made by men in pursuit of women’s approval were actually the more startling sights — shocker. 

Apparently, the traditional courtship ritual of copying a woman’s Spotify playlist evolved into something far more concerning, and it manifested itself this Halloween season. A new wave of nonchalant yearning was born: cultural profiling with romantic intentions. 

A witness claimed that over the weekend men in lederhosen stormed the streets of Isla Vista, accompanied by men in kilts and even bonnets. Fake mustaches, striped shirts, pints of beer — that’s actually not incredibly abnormal, but still — and an alarming amount of misplaced cultural courting flooded the streets. 

As said witness, I did some further investigation. 

One student, first-year red-headed political science major Stacy O’Sullivan, shared that, for weeks, her guy best friend had developed a sudden affinity for the color green. “Then, he dressed up as a leprechaun for Halloween,” O’Sullivan added. She swiftly exited the interview after I disclosed what my report was on; Lucky the Leprechaun likely entered the friend-zone later that evening. 

Another student, third-year biopsychology major Emily Deutschland, shared with the Daily Nexus that the guy who sits next to her in class passed her a stein of beer after she turned in her organic chemistry midterm. 

“You know, I always thought it was weird he said ‘Gesundheit’ after I sneezed. I guess I should take my last name out of my Instagram username,” Deutschland said.

The government isn’t the only thing stealing information from us anymore. 

The cultural courtship wasn’t limited to German-and-Irish inspired gestures. As I roamed the streets on that fateful day, I approached a group of dudes dressed as British guards. I was met with loud grunts whenever I came too close. Peering past them to see what they were guarding, I noticed an unnamed student sporting a blonde pixie-cut, biker shorts and a crewneck — a look seemingly inspired by the late Princess Diana. 

Additionally, a man carrying a two-tier cake reportedly approached a woman dressed as Marie Antoinette. The cake ended up in his face. I guess one shouldn’t mistake a Halloween costume as an invitation to reenact the French Revolution. 

“Honestly, I only did that because I hate cake,” the Antoinette cosplayer shared. How controversial of her — very fitting.  

The reasoning behind these peculiar courtship rituals remains unclear, but it can be theorized that performative cultural awareness has become the newest signal of emotional availability. Men seemingly believe that showing interest in a woman’s perceived cultural background is a shortcut to establishing a romantic connection. Why bother getting to know her when they can just trace her ancestry back to the Mayflower? 

Halloween truly did provide the perfect cover for these romantic advances. 

Who knows? Maybe the guy in lederhosens just wanted to LARP (live-action role play) Oktoberfest because all of his friends were studying abroad, or maybe the costume — plus the 30 beers he pounded — was his way of proving he’s in touch with his interest’s 10%. 

The distinction remains unclear.  

The scariest part of this new phenomenon is the realization that men are getting creative, more unclear and even more problematic.

At this point, the eight-day noise ordinance may have been the only thing protecting us. 

Kitty Funk took scraps of the cake home to eat for munchies later. “No regrets,” she reported.