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Hi, hope you like my Blog. Actually, no, not really, couldn't care less, this is all about me. Feel free to fluff my ego like it was the least ugly part of Ron Jeremy, and you had made some poor life decisions. Also, if you wanna swap links and are not an idiot, here's the crap email I rarely check: nightfire08@gmail.com Cheers!

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

The Worst Halloween Ever

Well, internet, it's been a long time. Other than that one german guy who keeps sending me the naked lion costume pictures (seriously, who's your PT? you look great. We should never be pen pals.) And a couple people in Russia, you've lost interest in me.

To be fair, I haven't been paying you a lot of attention. I've been writing (gasp) other things.

Like a movie about a homeless guy who kills vampires

I'm sorry to tell you like this. My spybot monitor tells me you already know about all the porn, so this should hardly come as a shock.

But, low and behold, I've come crawling back. Consider this a writing booty call- because I've got a story that MUST be told.

I may have had the worst halloween ever. And not just didn't-get-laid-drank-too-much-may-have-had-sex-with-an-empty-costume-by-mistake bad. More like punched-in-the-balls-by-a-fat-girl bad. Not even fun, if you're not paying for it.

But let me start at the beginning.

I now work at a bar, making a living quickly getting people drugged up and making them feel good.

Like this, but without the healthcare plan

So I was working late this Saturday night, which is when most people went out for Halloween. For those of you from anywhere that's not America, Halloween weekend is when women in their twenties and thirties go out dressed like this:
"I'm a bunny rabbit"

It's the most wonderful time of the year. So, being as nothing turns women on more than the eight inches of wood separating them from the bartender (Bah-ZING!!) (that's super not true) I was looking forward to going out, spending some time with friends, and indulging in some it-doesn't-count-if-your-wearing-a-mask activities, if possible.

So I call my roommate, Beau. Beau has made other appearances in my blog, like here.

Beau says he's at a theater fundraiser, which is like a party where you pay a cover to hang out with people who like to talk about themselves. Actually, it's not like that at all. That's what it IS.

However, this theater fundraiser is ending at 2am. It's 2:05 by the time I get there. I should have to pay the 35 dollar cover to drink Carlo and pretend to be as interested in people as they are in themselves. 
Yayy! 2 girls this time!!! That's twice as many as last year!!!!

But it served as a fine meeting place to launch the rest of the night. So I go with a friend of mine from work, who didn't understand the meaning of "theater fundraiser."

I should mention Beau has SWORN that getting in wouldn't be an issue.


Like this with a "Sw"

Yeah. So, I'm there less than 4 minutes, and haven't taken any of their wine-in-a-box or anything, when a smallish young man in a roman centurion costume asks if my friend and I have tickets.

Me, being clever, responded that I didn't know there was a raffle. He was not amused.

Now, I should explain. To me, this guy looked like this:

Whereas, he must have looked in the mirror and seen this:

In this particular example, I'M THE BLACK MESSENGER DUDE.

Me: Okay then, we'll leave. We thought the party ended at 2.


He shoves me. I had agreed to leave, and he shoves me. Literally okay, I'll go = shove. What the fuck?

Now, I'm not an angry person. I've also taken Tae Soo Do, Aikido, Brazillain Ju Jitsu, and Krav Maga in my life. That's not a joke.
This was taken a couple of years ago. I've been working out since then.

Lets just say I'm not really easily intimidated, and in the words of Beau, who knows us both I could have "taken him apart." Like legos.

Now, not wanting to fight because some other guy is big and scary is one thing. Not wanting to fight a dude because he's scrawny enough that no matter what you'll look like the asshole is a different story.

It's surprising much more stressful, and I've been in both situations. So, we leave.

When we get outside, tiny centurion decides we have no short-term memory, and invite us to the theater company's next show. No joke.

So we head to a bar, because at this point, I needed alchohol the way Snooki needs the blood of the living.

See? I'm not the only one who sees it.

My bar friend has peeled off at this point in search of less lame things. It's down to Beau and I.

We hit a bar. I get a drink in my hand, and start to cheer up a bit. It's a 5am bar, which means everyone there couldn't manage to close the deal with anyone by 2am, but the pickings aren't bad.

We talk to a few different groups of people, then I notice 2 girls, both cute, sitting across the way, dressed as a policewoman and a prisoner.

This was actually taken from my cell phone.

I alert Beau to the situation, and begin to lead the way across the crowded room.

En route to what might have been a spectacular re-introduction to the art of handcuffs, Beau happens to be accosted by a good looking young lady on the dance floor, who begins dancing not with, but ON him.

Who says chivalry is dead?

Hey! Great. Mission accomplished. Now traditionally, that would leave me with this young woman's attractive friend, in the best case.

It was not the best case. I don't want to criticize the woman I met physically, because I think it would distract from my criticism of her actions. For the purposes of storytelling, however, I need a picture to represent her to you to protect her identity, so here's a completely random image from the internet:

Okay. So, she's not my type. However, as Beau's friend, I'm required to be a good wingman. This is something they teach you in man school. I'm required to distract the friend I'm not interested if it looks like it'll help my buddy get lucky.

Am I painting a clear enough picture?

So I begin to dance with the friend, whom I will henceforth refer to as Crazy. Crazy apparently is having a very good time. So good in fact, that she is rubbing all different parts of her on all different parts of me, which would have been great had I been sure which parts were which (sorry).

At this point, I look over at Beau, and mouth:

Me: You OWE me.

Him (mouthing back): Hells yeah!

Me (mouthing): You don't know what I'm saying, do you?

Him (mouthing back): I totally agree!

So, no help there.

Crazy (you'll learn why she's earned that name in a minute) starts saying things like:

"I barely know you. I shouldn't sleep with you."


"Did you know dogs can smell fear?"

I may have made up that second one, but the first one is totally legit.

I was nearing the event horizon, where an object cannot escape the gravitational pull of...whoops. Totally not a weight joke. 

Point of no return.

I pull out my cell phone. Fake a call, disappear.

SHE TRIES TO SNATCH IT, and says: "Don't tell me, you have a girlfriend?"

Now, I'd like to take a moment to point out that at no point did I solicit the attention I was receiving, nor had I previously mentioned anything about a girlfriend.

But hey, I'll take it.

I say, sadly, "Yes, unfortunately I do."

This is where shit gets crazy.

She shreiks, "you liar!" and PUNCHES ME IN THE CROTCH.





What. The. FUCK! Swear to God, this actually fucking happened.

At this point, my duties as a wingman were over. Mancode ends at a shot to the groin.

I walk over to Beau, and interrupt the amateur lapdance he's receiving.

"Time to go-" I start to say.

But, like a bad fart, Crazy has followed me. 

"Don't talk to your friend about me" she says, yanking me away by the shirt.

"What's going on?" inquires Beau, quite surprised, and at this point a little concerned.

"She hit me in the nuts!" I say.

"Yeah, for lying!" she says, and DOES IT THE FUCK AGAIN.

Twice. Fucking Twice.

Twice. Kind of on me, that time. Shoulda been ready.

I grab her wrist. It was like catching a fat viper. I lean close.

"You are NOT gonna do that again," I say, and walk away to the table where we left our coats.

Beau follows.

"Dude, what happened?" He inquires.

"She's CRAZY!" I say (hence the nickname). 

He explained he thought I was into it. I asked how he could possibly think that. He explained he thought the crazy woman I had met was "Just as attractive as her friend"

Now, at first I thought he was just being a dick, because he got the hot one. Then I realized something about my friend.

I have a couple criteria for being attracted to someone. Chief among them being that they don't resolve disputes by HITTING YOU IN THE FUCKING NUTS. Others are physical, social, or intellectual. I value certain things in a potential mate, which makes them to me, attractive.

For Beau, attractive means OWNS A VAGINA.

"I think they might be sisters."

Then CRAZY decides to apologize. CRAZY and hot friend come over.

Now, internet, I think I should point out that at that point I had every right in the world to say all the horrible things I was thinking. Here's a list of them:

"I was just distracting you so my friend could have sex with your friend."

"You shouldn't have dressed up as a pin-up girl. You would tear the calendar from the wall."

"You may be endangered, and should take appropriate protective action."

I didn't. Because it wouldn't have helped her, or me, really, or the situation as a whole. She wants to apologize, I'll let her. She probably doesn't get out alot, and god knows she's not getting laid tonight.

See? At least I'm making an effort.

She apologizes, then says she has a question. I smile politely, and put on a listening face.

"Why do you want to be with the girl your with?" She says, and puts a hand on my thigh.

OH MY FUCKING GOD. I quickly move away.

Hot friend intercepts me at the other end of the booth. She whispers in my ear:

"My friend is really fucked up, but she really likes you!"

To which I reply, "You know? I got all that! We're on the same page!"

They left to "have a cigarette," leaving Beau and I to mull over my abused scrotum. At least, I was. I hope he wasn't, actually.

But, it was not all for nothing. Beau at least got her phone number. Right? He'd have HAD to. Anything else would be FUCKING STUPID, right?!?!?

First thing on Google Images


I love Beau. He's one of my best friends, but I almost kicked him in the nuts.

"THEN GO FUCKING GET IT!!!" I scream. At this point, people are looking. I distinctly remember seeing hot cop and prisoner-


-leaving at that moment. Right then. Because fuck me, that's why.

Beau goes downstairs, and I go to close out my tab. I know when to quit and call it a day. I tell the bartender the story of my night. He's a good guy, and takes it well. He laughs with me, making it feel...well, a little better.

That's what we bartenders do.

And then he told me they LOST MY FUCKING CREDIT CARD. And drivers license.

All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
At this point, is was a moral imperative for me to get out of the crowded building. Oh my fucking God.

I yelled all the way back to the car.

So yeah. Sometimes life just kicks you in the nuts.

Sometimes, so does a fat girl.

I know I'm not always the kindest in my portrayals of others. I know I'm at times selfish, self involved, impractical, and occasionally a prick just for the hell of it.

But now God owes me one.

Yeah that's right, don't make eye contact.

I believe in karma. I know I haven't done anything that bad. And karma will work for CRAZY as well. I trust she'll get what she's owed.

Not that I'm going to seek justice myself. Wouldn't want to incur the wrath of PETA or those crazy fucking whale wars people.

Hey, I totally know this girl he should meet.

First of all, because I'm hoping someone shows her this post. That would be recompense enough. And karma is a crazy bitch. I believe that.

Secondly, I feel that being able to experience this, and laugh at it gives me perspective.

And that's the real comfort here. Perspective.

Terrible things are happening in the world. People are suffering, and these are my grievances. That's a wonderful perspective to have. I count myself lucky.

Thanks, Middle East.

We are all truly, truly blessed. Even CRAZY. Her too.

Secondly, perspective gives me a second comfort. I'd like to address crazy directly, if I may be so bold:

This may be how you saw the night, at least to start:

But this is how I saw it, the whole time, so happy halloween:

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