At the starting line on Halloween night of the journey, we stood in a line that was more than 300 people long. Chris and I had left early having prepared early. We had one small hiking backpack stuffed with additional costumes, water and communication equipment (one iphone, two blackberries). I carried my mini pocket muni bus map. I had thrown together a costume that was meant to transform throughout the night. The fox hat that I got for Chris coupled with my bag of cornstarch. Every few seconds, I would try to make my face more white. Chris was dressed as Stan from South Park, although he looked more like a Russian dancer with his glasses.

I scanned the crowd. Surprisingly, it was very similar to the typical crowd I ran into at other “quirky” events in San Francisco—the flash mobs, the cupcake camps. All of those. And there was more people than I expected.

We saw people dressed in ninjas with spots of glittering jewelry, suggesting that they were also gypsies. I saw a girl dressed as a painting. Ghosts, skeletons. But all in black. And all wearing athletic shoes.

Ta-ching called. He was on the F-line coming from the Mission. I said that we would save him a spot—if he showed up before we got to the front of the line.

After more than 20 minutes, we finally got to the waiver table. There I quickly signed my name—yes, I absolved sf0 of all liability and that I intend to play at my own risk. Then we headed to the next line to get our ribbons and map.

Strategy.

I spent the weeks before the journey studying on tactics that worked successfully in the past, reading the posts on sf0.org and studying elusive techniques.

There was only one solution that seemed the best. Only one that seemed both enjoyable and…somewhat pratical.

Multiple costumes. Versatile costumes.

But what part of the costume made someone so…unrecognizable, so different? After visiting the International Spy Museum in Washington DC a few weeks earlier, I knew the answer(s).

1. Hair. Obviously. If my hair suddenly turned from black to blonde or from straight to curly, surely it would be easy to sneak by an unsuspecting chaser.
2. Classes. What I mean by classes are the clear distinguished classes in San Francisco. What you mean that there are classes in this city? Most certainly. If I dressed like a hipster, a yuppie, a Chinese bag lady, or a high-flauntin’ business man, nobody will be the wiser. Especially when they are on opposite extremes.
3. Skin color. Now, it’s not meant to be racist at all. I was going to put corn starch on my face. Then when it wore off, I was going to use black face paint to draw crazy “tattoos” on my face.
4. Walking style. Not easy for me, since I walk so uniquely. But what if I walk daintly…then I walk with confidence, then walk like a man…strutting. It has been more than a year since I first took the BATS improv class, but the lessons there of slipping in another role were so amazing. I can suddenly be someone else easily with a different walk.
5. Being obvious. If I looked a bit crazy and yelled out obscenities in the middle of the street, wouldn’t I naturally be ignored in San Francisco? Ok, so this was something I thought of AFTER the journey. But I remember going East on Folsom and seeing a man yelling random things into the dark street…I naturally ignored him. And I realized how automatic that was for someone living in San Francisco.

In the Oakland Journey to the End of the Night during the summer, I got sick 10 minutes in. It was a horrible experience as I moped back to the car…having not even reached the first checkpoint or seen a chaser.

Wait, what is this journey to the end of the night?

Well it’s simply put…

Journey to the End of the Night is a free street game of epic proportion run by hard-working volunteers in cities around the world from London to Los Angeles. The game is a pursuit across the city in multiple parts. Players try to make it through a series of checkpoints as quickly and as stealthily as possible, while avoiding being caught by chasers. The first player to reach the endpoint without being tagged is the winner, though anyone who survives is deservedly praised and feted at the end. Those who fall become chasers themselves, rising to pursue their former friends and allies. Players may not use skates, bikes, or cars, only their feet and public transportation.

Ever since I had heard that there was going to be on in San Francisco game on October 31, 2009…I was so excited, so…thrilled. Despite some friends saying “What? I don’t think I want to do that on Halloween…” I was like WHATEVER. Do I want to spend $50+ on cover? Do I want to stand in a room of people dressed up to the nines with slutty girls who use Halloween as an excuse to show off? Do I want to lay at home moping once again that nobody invited me to a Halloween party (although I need not worry)? ABSOLUTELY NOT.

And so I convinced Chris and of course ta-ching merrily obliged. I concocted a strategy. Multiple costumes! Multiple pathways! Double-back! Run across streets at breakneck speeds! Call “RAPE!” WHATEVER IT TAKES!

And we answered these questions:

What would we do if one of us is tagged?
Would one tag the other?
Would we support each other?
Who is the weakest link? (me obviously)
Do we have to support ta-ching? (yes…sometimes…maybe…)

And then finally the day arrived. We ate pumpkin cookies and drank mulled wine the afternoon before, thanks to the lovely April and Chris C. No awful food poisoning this time. After quickly drinking some water. We went to the BART down to the Embarcadero, where we found a HUGE crowd of 600+ people waiting in line to sign the waiver and get the ribbons.

Little did I know that the game would not turn out the way I had imagined…