When I say I don’t want to go out, and that I’d rather stay home with my dog and cat; I mean it. Believe me, it’s not a ploy to make you feel bad for me and therefore take it upon yourself, making it your mission in life to get me out of the house because I’m “obviously” in a sad place. I don’t do that ‘mind game’ shit. I say what I mean and I mean what I say. I’d really rather not go out on a Saturday night, on Halloween, at midnight, to some overcrowded nightclub; I’d really rather stay home. 

Flashback to Halloween, 2018

So… You’re not gonna let up? We’re going? I have no say in this? My arm is broken; I’m in a cast. That’s not a card I can pull? I have to put on a corset and a long skirt to pretend like I’ve actually thought about this “costume” for longer than 3 seconds, and that I’m some sort of a Wench? Cool, thanks for what is about to be the longest 3 hours of my life. 

MONEY.

When you try to play the ‘I don’t have any money to go out’ card, they always try to tell you that best things in life are free and that you won’t even spend that much. “It’s like 5 bucks to Uber cause we’re sharing, and we’ll get guys to buy you drinks” they say. Next thing you know, it’s 5 bucks to Uber there, plus 25 to Uber back, because it’s peak hours and everyone is trying to leave Hollywood at the same time. Not only that, but everyone opts to walk a mile in hopes of “beating the traffic” and hopefully landing a better deal for a ride; it makes no difference of course, in either department. Oh and no one’s buying you drinks by the way, because Hollywood is gay AF on Halloween and you’re a chick with a broken arm pretending to be a wench. 

HALLOWEEN IS GAY AF.

When you try to play the ‘I don’t feel like socializing; I just wanna stay home with my dog” card, and you just happen to have been single for a billion years, they’ll inevitably come back with a guilt trip about how you always say that and instead you really should just go out once in a while and possibly meet a guy. Silver lining, right? Wrong. Especially so when the chosen destination for a Halloween outing is a gay club, called Trunks! That’s a whole lot of false advertisement right there. What silver lining? What guys am I supposed to meet exactly? The guys that are walking around in heels, lady Gaga wigs and their ass cheeks hanging out; these guys? No thanks. Never seen so much ass in my life as I have this particular Halloween. The only silver lining was the cowboy show; fun to watch; but again, not very rewarding take-a-guy-home-wise. 

DRAMA. ALWAYS DRAMA.

When you hear your friends say “I just want a drama free night; I just wanna have some fun”, brace yourself for major drama. Whether it’s boyfriend drama or whatever else kind of drama, there is bound to be drama. Next thing you know, you’re staggering around aimlessly, either looking for someone or waiting for someone or something else dumb like that. It’s a weird sort of solidarity; ‘y’all came together so you should leave together’ type shit, and if someone in your party isn’t having a good time, you shouldn’t be either. So undoubtedly you start hating yourself for listening to these people instead of just staying home like you wanted to. 

CAPTURE THE MOMENT.

All garbage aside, you think to yourself, I’m here, might as well get a few pictures out of it. If not for the sake of good memories then at least for the purpose of capturing your poor attempt at a Halloween costume as well as a reminder to yourself, not to listen to your friends when they try to drag your tired old ass out. And of course all the pictures come out blurry – go figure. If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is. Oh wait, I do; all the other things combined are a big neon sign. 

OTHER SIDE EFFECTS.

You come home thirsty as hell; not the kind of thirsty that you get when you wake up in the middle of the night after drinking; the kind where you’ve been watching people consume delicious alcoholic beverages all night long but couldn’t partake much yourself because you’re a broke ass bitch. So it’s 3am and you find yourself digging through the liquor cabinet in desperate attempts to make up for what you’d missed. Is it a great idea? Probably not. Is it definitely happening? Yes. Not to mention, your giant horse of a dog didn’t love being left behind while you went out, so of course he tore up your front door. What are you gonna do? Can’t get mad; he’s a dog. So you drink. Then you go to Home Depot the next day and fix the door. 

What a terrible night that was. As I sit here re-living it, I can’t help but be taken back to a time when nights like these didn’t make you think twice about time wasted or money spent. You’d wake up the next day, chug a warm beer, and go on about your day; shrugging it off; chalking it up to just another meaningless square on a Calendar that you barely even glance at. Nowadays, the calendar squares seem to be in fast forward mode; turning black, haunting you with every dumb decision such as going out when you clearly should be staying home, or drinking wine all day instead of doing something productive with a day off.

One thing is clear: I’m obviously too old for this shit. What’s unclear is why I haven’t been able to learn from my mistakes. Stay tuned for more shenanigans.