After finally recuperating from the sugar fest known as Halloween, I have the energy to replay the events from that day in my head. This Halloween was just like any other until I bumped into a young couple wearing Amish costumes. Or at least I thought they were Amish costumes…

“What original costumes,” I thought to myself. The man was wearing dark trousers and suspenders. He was clean shaven, but had long sideburns. The girl was wearing a plain, blue dress with a white apron, black bonnet and white cape.

Now, since I am knowledgeable in all things Amish (i.e. I have seen the movie Witness and the epic music video Amish Paradise by Weird Al Yankovic), I knew right away that they weren’t a married couple.

Assuming their costumes were historically accurate (and if you’re going to dress up like the Amish why wouldn’t you want to be historically accurate), both were single. Single Amish men are clean shaven. Single Amish women wear black bonnets and white capes. Also, they weren’t arguing with each other, which was a dead giveaway.

Could they be dating or “courting”? It’s possible. But if so, the guy needs to stop leaving his girlfriend behind to watch their horse and buggy while he goes inside to use the restroom.

“Hello,” I say.

“That is a great costume.”

A nervous smile greets me. I needed to put her at ease with some of my comedic magic.

“I once thought about becoming Amish, but when I found out they wouldn’t let me bring my Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVDs I nixed the idea.”

Her nervous smile was replaced by a look of nervous confusion. She must not be a fan. Or maybe she had never heard of the show before? No, that couldn’t be it.

“So what kind of gas mileage does this thing get?,” I ask.

The nervous smile returned, but she didn’t say anything. Boy, this girl is pretty shy.

Knowing her brother/male friend/boyfriend was due to return any moment, I ask for her phone number.

“We do not use phones,” she quietly responds.

“Right, of course you don’t,” I say, thinking I’m playing along.

“How about your e-mail address?”

The look of nervous confusion returned. Oh dear. She really is Amish.

I then made a graceful exit. And by “graceful exit” I mean I pointed into the distance and asked, “is that Jacob Amman?” as I ran away.

That’s right. I just added Jacob Amman to my list of diversionary tactics. Of course, this one only works on the Amish. I need to remember that…