The Cash Register Rings . . . Will They Get Their Wings?

You want scary? Forget haunted houses and werewolf-filled graveyards. Just get a load of the Costa Mesa Freeway in the rainy hours before Halloween.

Still, Halloween fans don’t scare easily, and thousands of them flew around Orange County on Wednesday like bats out of you-know-where, determined to find those newfangled fangs or gaudy baubles that would make their costumes complete.

“Between now and closing time, it’ll be a zoo in here,” said Bob Fitzgerald, husband of Julie Fitzgerald, who owns the Costume Connection in Costa Mesa.

Normally, Bob Fitzgerald has his own career to run. But things got so hectic at the store Wednesday--phones ringing off the hook, dresses flying off the racks, fitting rooms filled with freaks, flappers and belly dancers--that Julie Fitzgerald sent her husband an emergency page: “GET HERE.”

Jennifer Kimble, 22, was there already, buying her show-stopping, satin-and-lace, bustle-out-to-here evening gown, a $435 number just like the ones worn by Old West saloon dancers.

Kimble, a bartender at nearby El Ranchito, said the dress’ price tag didn’t daunt her, nor did the prospect of slick roads, crazed crowds and nightmare traffic. Halloween, she insisted, is the holiest day of the year.

“It’s just fun to dress up,” she said dreamily, cradling her dress like a bride with her gown. “To be something you can’t ordinarily be. To be something different.”

On the other hand, costume shopping can mean major migraines for some. Halloween may be one of the year’s silliest holidays, but it’s deadly serious business for those who live to look cool.

Speak of the devil, here come Stacey Butner, 19, Christina Ludwig, 18, Sharon Schubert, 15, and Shawn Talley, 15, four Huntington Beach teens on a breathless quest for wings. In fact, not since Clarence latched onto George Bailey in “It’s a Wonderful Life” has there been such an all-out effort for feathered offshoots.

“We’re going to be fairies,” Sharon explained solemnly.

Trouble was, wings are hard to come by. You want wings, you’ve got to buy the whole angel get-up, halo and all, and the teens had only $50 to spend.

They pleaded with salesclerks at Halloween Club in Santa Ana, where the parking lot was packed and lines stretched from the cash registers all the way to the fake blood.

Sorry, the clerks said. No wings sold separately.

The teens gathered in the back of the store, bumming. In their bell bottoms and clunky shoes--standard issue for Generation X’ers--they were already costumed like kids in the 1960s, but this was small consolation. Around them, people were grabbing Barney Rubble costumes and Grim Reaper costumes and Power Ranger costumes, and everyone seemed so happy. It was a total downer.

“With all these costumes,” Shawn complained, “people take the wings out all the time and buy them separately. That’s why every angel costume has no wings.”

Now, for no reason, the clerks were enforcing the rules? It just wasn’t fair.

In the background, a horrifyingly cheerful voice announced that the store’s haunted house was open for business: “Electrocutions, alligators, pendulums . . . lots of fun!”

Butner hatched a plan. Why not sneak the wings from a pricey angel costume into a cheap maiden costume? The clerks would ring up the lower price, and no one would be the wiser.

With Butner and Ludwig creating a diversion, Sharon and Shawn made the switch. Then, looking as scared as it’s possible to look in a Halloween store, the four teens timidly approached the counter.

After standing in line for 10 minutes, however, Butner spotted a clerk acting suspicious, checking packages, so she called the plan off.

Sans wings, the teens left the store.

After some debate, they decided to drive to Costume Connection in Costa Mesa. But the salesclerk there said the same thing: No wings sold separately.

“OK,” Sharon said, “we’re over it.”

Dejected, the four left the store and headed for Butner’s car. As they strolled along Newport Boulevard, however, a car honked at them.

“Hey!” the driver yelled. “Nice costumes! Ha ha ha ha!”

It was the final indignity.