On Trick-Or-Treating II

Mood: Pensive
Song: Erin Gra Mo Chroi - Cherish the Ladies
Units of Caffeine: 3.5
Days Until Graduation: 45
So, last night was cool: I did everything I planned - It was an evening of eating, drinking and being scary. And we had trick-or-treaters. Yes... we had trick-or-treaters. Since I was cooking, K did the majority of the door answering / candy distribution, but I always asked to make sure that they "earned the candy," and, for the most part, they did. That is, until about 8:30 or so. This is meaning to say that, as the hour got later, the "trick-or-treaters" got more ghetto. Here's the difference:
The 7:00 p.m. Trick-or-Treater
Doorbell rings once.
K goes to the door to a cute little princess saying, "twick or tweet."
K distributes some chocolately goodness to the princess and the little girls responds with a courteous, "thank you."
The 9:00 p.m. Trick-or-Treater
The doorbell rings 15 times in succession.
K answers the door to 3 or 4 people in regular clothing (no costume), who look at her and say, "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn! Dat's a big ol' bucket of candy! Gimme!"
Needless to say, we blew out our Jack-o-Lantern after the 9:00 Trick-or-Treater hit our house. Thankfully, I snagged some free bags of crappy gum that we received in our office to give out as free samples. If the trick-or-treater was unruly or not in costume, they got the crappy gum. I mean, at one point I answered the door to three girls in their mid-teens who were in street clothes. I asked, "Where are your costumes?" The girls said, "We're too old to be wearing costumes," to which I responded, "Well, maybe then you're too old to go trick-or-treating." One of the girls noticed the mountain of chocolate in my hand and said, "Ooooooooo, I NEED some of the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup!" (Um... no one needs a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup), but I told her that since she has no costume, she gets no chocolate.
I have no qualms about becoming the Halloween Nazi!
1 Comments:
My brother's philosophy on the teenage girls in street clothes trick-or-treating:
"What are you dressed as?"
"Sluts."
Well said, little bro.
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