There’s a hex on me. I am cursed when it comes to making plans for Halloween. Maybe that’s why it’s a holiday that I don’t even think about. I don’t eat candy and on any given day I am willing to chase children away from my front door step while wearing a spooky mask. Halloween for me is just another day, but I wear orange.
I used to make plans for Halloween. Oh boy did I! You wouldn’t believe the awesome costumes that I had planned for Halloween during my adulthood. Lucky for me, I’m usually late to buying things and never actually purchased the lousy costumes that someone else had informed me that I would have to wear. Apathy pays off when you truly do not give a hoot, damn, rat’s ass, shit, or flying fuck.
The first time I remember having a costume planned out for me was way back in the year of 2007. Or maybe it was 2008. I don’t know. Somewhere around that time. Whatever year it was that I wasn’t in high school anymore and girls actually saw me as a viable candidate to impregnate them. It’s weird how that works. In high school, three people decide who dates who. Everyone wants those three people too. It’s insane how many decent looking girls I could have gotten with, if not for falling for the sirens scream of the three extra tan, extra blonde, extra chromosome, girls that controlled the cock of every guy in school. But I guess that’s a good thing. If I hadn’t bloomed so much later in life then maybe I would have peaked in high school. I wouldn’t have this opportunity of years of suffering, with self-pity and an everlasting questioning of why I even bother. There’s no way I’ve reached my peak. Christ, if I’ve lived through life’s best moments then I fully understand suicide bombers. At least they make it onto the news. The best I’ve done is having my name spelt wrong in the local paper.
So anyway, it’s 2007 or 2008. Girls finally notice me. Most of them use drugs. They smoke pot, yes, but in this case I’m referring to over the counter prescription drugs. The kinds that are legal and yet can change a person completely where they don’t even remember what they have done. Pharmacists are personality killing criminals. A certain girl friend of mine (two words, we never dated) had taken an interest in me over the summer. Actually, she liked me much longer, but my friend liked her and I used to be a nice person. Believe me, anything like this happens again and my friend can bite his own dick. Male friends have been more disloyal to me than women, shockingly. I guess that’s what happens when you’re a babe magnet. Probably all that static electricity and balloon rubbing I do.
We started talking more and she threatened to do everything girls threaten to do. She said she was going to kill herself, move away to live with her sister that I don’t think existed, and threatened to reveal secrets about other people who I didn’t feel like learning. I’m not sure what order she planned on doing these in. Surprise, surprise, she didn’t accomplish any of them. Fucking loser. We went on one date to the movies and I didn’t realize it was a date until 3 months ago, reflecting upon it when someone made a mention of the movie we saw. That’s how boring it was. That’s how little affection was shown. I didn’t even realize it was a date.
August, the worst month ever for me, came along. Maybe August actually isn’t the worst month for me. It’s actually the best now that I think about it. It’s the beginning of the end of a good thing usually. All of my friendships end in August. It’s a bad month with no holidays. Since there were no holidays that month, she started talking about Halloween ideas. She wanted matching costumes. We didn’t date, we never even kissed. She told me some filthy things on the Internet while she was high on some sleeping medication (that old gag) and then denied it later on. I don’t remember what the costume she picked out for us was, but I know that she did. By the time October came along, we were no longer talking. I don’t remember what happened. I had such big hopes for Halloween, going to cool parties and having a killer costume, and it was all gone. Fool me once, shame on me.
Years later it happens again, with a new girl, that I actually did date. We start dating in the summer and I’m really happy that I don’t remember the date. I’m amazing at remembering dates. I remember just about everybody’s birthdays. I remember tragic event dates too. Columbine Massacre happened on April 20, 1999. Oklahoma City Bombing happened also on April 20, but in 1995. Even worse, Tony Danza was born on April 20. I’m not sure of the year, but I’m out of practice. Tragedies are now just named after the day they happen on. I guess in that sense then I should remember the day we started dating due to how tragic of a waste of time it became.
Our relationship ended in August (ho-hum) and as you can guess, we had already planned out Halloween costumes. Well, she did. She liked planning things out. Especially other people’s lives. She was to be a vampire and I was to be her victim. Fantastic! She was get all gussied up and I could dress normal with some fake blood on my neck. This would be an easy Halloween. It became even easier when she informed me on the same day that I had planned on breaking up with her that we had rushed things and she thought we would make better friends. I give her credit, she disliked being with me as much as I did not enjoy being around her. And lets face it, any girl willing to let you see her tits and pussy on the same day as a funeral of a beloved relative, is a good egg.
So now here I am with another Halloween coming up in a few weeks. I know I won’t do anything. Last year I only remember going to Best Buy and asking a woman dressed as an angel where the DVD of Avatar was. She picked up the Blu-Ray and said “Here it is!” and I left without purchasing the film that can only be enjoyed in theaters.
What I learned from these experiences is to live in the moment. No. I didn’t learn that. I learned not to trust others. Yes. That is much more true at face value. Don’t let other people guide you into what will happen. Especially if it’s in August.