I should have known better or 62 days until the end of the year

I know. I should have really known that Halloween lurks around the corner. The window panes of the grocer’s wife are full of plastic skeletons, rubber witches and to my great disgust, she even put two rats with glowing red eyes in the middle of the bread basket, where normally the bake of the day is announced. On Tuesday when I bought milk and eggs, the grocer’s wife even wore a massive, black hat and I wouldn’t be surprised if she will jump on a broomstick by noon to do what people obviously  seem to do on Halloween. All neighbors have decorated their doorways with cobwebs made of toilet paper and wherever you step a silly pumpkin grins at you. I never smile back. My house is the only one in the street that bears no visible sight of this festive day, even when the grocer’s wife tries to convince me on a daily basis ( meaning she threatens to not make my beloved raspberry scones any longer ) but I am probably as stubborn as she is. So, I should have known. There is no excuse not to know that the Halloween obsession that rules this country is happening right now. I should have known better. Nevertheless I was quite surprised that I found myself on the train sitting next to a most silly looking mummy that was wrapped from head to toe into toilet paper, trying to fix whatever on his costume with water and baby powder. Of course I wear a black skirt and black thighs and black shoes and of course the mummy is messing around with the water and the baby power and of course spills the water, wets his toilet paper costume and of course, of course rubs frantically and when he gets off my skirt and thighs are covered in a sticky mixture of rags of wet toilet paper and oily baby powder. Hahaha, you might say, should have known its Halloween. I know. I know. At the next stop, one guy dressed up as a Superhero ( I am unable to get right, who is who in the Superhero circle ) with a plastic scythe gets on and while he tries to answer his phone, his scythe smashes down twice and hits me on the back. Sorry, the superhero mumbles and I mumble something else back, which is very far away from a friendly reply. But better be careful, I don’t want to meet my end on Halloween getting beheaded by a plastic scythe. Hehehehe, you might say: you should have known its Halloween. I know, I know. Two girls get the train. Their faces are covered in a mud-colored paste and I can’t even guess what they want to represent ( seaweed? a mudhole? ) but I shall learn very quickly. From two enormous bags, they pull out big pillows and with energy and force they push the pillows under their t-shirts. While doing so I get a few, wholehearted rib-kicks and another: sorry. I don’t even pretend to answer something. I just stare at them with eyes that resemble very well the red-colored eyes of the grocer’s wife rats. Then they wrap their massive pillow-pushed figures into mud colored coats. Now I at least can guess what their costumes might be. They are dressed up as turtles. Big, massive, mud-colored turtles. To make this even more ridiculous they add a red and a yellow headband and two water-pistols. They look unbelievable silly. Who knew that there are people on this planet, who think it a good idea to dress up as turtles. Their successful make-over they celebrate with two Coke cans, of course the train is moving and stopping and moving and with their massive pillow- battle shield in front of them, they lose grip of their cans and me and my already devastated skirt are covered in soda. I wish, I would have taken away the plastic scythe and I would have made use of it for sure, but unarmed as I am I just get off the train. Hihihihi, you might say: its Halloween you should have known. I know, I know as I stumble out of the station a clown with a face covered in artificial blood stumbles towards me. I stare at him, he stares at me. Then he decides to move on. Wise move, man, I think, wise move. When arriving, M. asks and she does it so innocently and sweet: „Trick or Treat, Read On, but I just growl as the grocer’s wife rats do when the tower bells strikes midnight and don’t want to hear another word about Halloween for another lifetime. I know, I should have known. I should have really known.

6 thoughts on “I should have known better or 62 days until the end of the year

  1. That does not sound good. Halloween is not a big thing here in StrictlyCatholicTown. There is the occasional witch or jack-o‘-lantern, and as long as they are small and made of marzipan and chocolate, I do not mind (any more). Carnival is worse. Here, the party is on the 1st of november, when everybody dresses up in their Sunday best and puts ugly candles on the graves of long deceased relatives. I must admit, I rather like that. I live near a cemetary and at night the candles look nice.

    • Oh, I envy you. Here and this is overall a pretty catholic country it is just mayhem. Especially when people are convinced that it is a good plan to throw chemical waste into the bonfires. The village was covered into thick, black smoke for hours. The candlelights seem to be a much more preferable option.

  2. Let me be the first to wish you a happy Halloween-is-almost-over. On my late afternoon walk today, I saw a young couple, the man dressed like a vampire and the woman dressed like a hooker, carefully strapping their child, dressed like a ladybug, into her car seat. Strange.

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