Every Halloween, I used to wait for the Deli on my corner to be packed with despicable yuppies and their spoiled brats, the latter dressed in costumes and demanding candy.
Nice and loud, so everyone could hear me, I’d say to the girl behind the counter “oh shit. I forgot it was Halloween. I need a dozen apples and a box of razor blades.”
The kids didn’t understand the significance of that, but the yuppie parents would look at me and shudder. It’s more fun to scare adults than children.
Every Halloween, I used to wait for the Deli on my corner to be packed with despicable yuppies and their spoiled brats, the latter dressed in costumes and demanding candy.
Nice and loud, so everyone could hear me, I’d say to the girl behind the counter “oh shit. I forgot it was Halloween. I need a dozen apples and a box of razor blades.”
The kids didn’t understand the significance of that, but the yuppie parents would look at me and shudder. It’s more fun to scare adults than children.
It’s a wonderful permission to make mischief.
🙂
.