The season of ghouls, ghosts, and questionable outfits is upon us. But in the grand theatre of American politics, some lawmakers don’t need Halloween to don a costume. Case in point: Congresswoman Lauren Boebert. While many were deciding between a Barbie or zombie costume, Boebert was seemingly perfecting a role she has embraced all year: The Unruly Patron Saint of Public Disturbance.
The Beetlejuice Incident: A Performance in the Audience
The event that sparked this conversation wasn’t on October 31st. It took place on a September evening at a touring production of the musical Beetlejuice in Denver. However, the performance that unfolded in the audience gave the actors on stage a run for their money. Forget the supernatural antics of the show; the real “strange and unusual” behavior was happening in Boebert’s seats.
Security footage and witness reports confirmed that the congresswoman and her companion were vaping, taking flash photos, singing along loudly, and causing a general disturbance. The situation escalated to the point where they were asked to leave and ultimately ejected from the theater.
Breaking Down the ‘Costume’: The Rebel Persona
So, if it wasn’t a literal Halloween outfit, what was the costume? It was a carefully constructed character, one that defines her political brand. Let’s break down the elements:
- The Props: A vape pen, used defiantly inside a crowded theatre despite clear rules against it—a modern-day symbol of flouting authority.
- The Act: Loud singing and disruptive behavior, a classic move for anyone determined to be the main character in a room full of people who paid to see a professional show.
- The Climax: The now-infamous groping captured on grainy CCTV footage. It was a full commitment to the role of a person for whom rules are merely suggestions and public decorum is a foreign concept.
This behavior is less a political scandal and more a script for a cringe-comedy sketch. For a sitting member of a national legislature to be physically ejected from a family musical for acting like a rowdy teenager is a spectacle of a different kind.
From Denial to Apology: The Final Act
The performance didn’t end when the house lights came up. The aftermath was part of the act. First came the denial, a brazen dismissal of the “heckling” claims as “vicious lies.” Then, when the undeniable video evidence emerged, the narrative shifted. Boebert issued a half-hearted apology, partly blaming the messy nature of her recent divorce.
It was a classic dramatic arc: the brazen act, the defiant denial, and finally, the forced confession when caught red-handed.
Why Her Political Brand is the Real Costume
This is why asking if it was a costume is more than a snarky jab. Metaphorically, her entire political brand is a costume. It’s the persona of the gun-toting, establishment-defying, “liberal-triggering” firebrand. Every public appearance and controversial tweet adds another layer to this character.
Getting kicked out of Beetlejuice wasn’t an unfortunate lapse in judgment; it was perfectly on-brand. It was a feature, not a bug. She was simply playing the character her supporters elected her to be—loud, disruptive, and contemptuous of the “elites,” who in this case were simply ushers trying to do their job.
So no, she wasn’t wearing a witch’s hat or vampire fangs. But Lauren Boebert was most certainly in costume. It’s one she wears every day. For politicians of her ilk, Halloween isn’t a single night of make-believe; it’s a permanent state of being.
