10pm.
I'm on the phone with Sis. We're chatting about this and that. Each of our households has had a fine, successful Halloween sortie. The weather was nice, and we had the best turnout in years here. Like probably every kid who hit our neighborhood, my two scored a lot of loot.
I'm eating as much as I can.
***
Anyway, the doorbell rings, and MOBB informs me she's not going to answer it at this time of night. I'm not thrilled, giving her the universal hey I'm on the phone here gesture. Our porch light is off, the house is dark from the outside.
Fine, fine.
So I answer the door, and I see a man in his 60s. He's dressed as a wino, though I don't think it's a costume. His hat has a skull on it, and a cigarette is dangling from his lips.
"Trick or treat," he says, and the vibe is ALL SORTS OF SCREWED UP.
"Is this for real?" I ask, as he fumbles with the pillowcase he's using for a sack.
"Yeah," he says. I briefly consider that something nefarious is up, and that maybe he's going to pull a gun out of his pillowcase or something. I'm not kidding.
But he's old enough to be in AARP, and I'm about eight inches taller and 40 pounds heavier than he is. He also can't get the damn bag open.
Just as I'm thinking, I can take this guy if I have to, he mutters something that I swear sounds like "kung fu."
I dump the last of our candy in his pillowcase. He says thank you, and disappears into the night.
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3 comments:
It is official - you truly are a nut magnet. No one else could tell this story 'cuz it could never happen to anyone else.
A new entry in the 'why does all this crap happen to Briscoe' category... but here were forced to examine whether the tornado is attracted to the trailer park or whether the trailer park is actually creating the tornados... DON'T OPEN YOUR DOOR AT NIGHT WITHOUT LOOKING THROUGHT THE PEEPHOLE MAN. geese. thats pretty basic.
I just don't know what to say anymore...
Bruiser
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