Who let the dead out? Who let the zombies out? Who let THEM out?

Halloween came and went, and with it, our only chance in the year to become whomever (or whatever) we want.

For us, boring people, Halloween it’s a lame excuse to get wasted, so we simply avoid all the fuzz and stay in the house receiving the trick-or-treaters and reward them with candy.
What we didn’t took into notice, when signing us up into the building’s list, was that you have to cover a 10 hour shift of: door bell ringing-kids/parents receiving-candy giving-holding the “beast” (our 12lb dog)-costume congratulating-door closing process… non-stop.
At the same time, I was cooking Tacos for dinner, a tedious process of a meal that my non-existent gall-bladder doesn’t let me enjoy, so it was a sacrifice to even stand in front of the stove (while salivating over the chicken) and don’t taste the results of my amazing seasoning (pardon my boasting)… 10 hours of running between the door and the kitchen: controlling my cooking, controlling the candy… and I didn’t even got rewarded with a double-decker.

So unfair!

When 4 pm arrived, I was exhausted… a truck must have run me over for sure, and I hadn’t even noticed; so I decided to flee for the door (accomplishing the best disappearing act in the history of Magic) and headed to Union Square to visit a friend’s Photography exposition, with the only goal in mind of avoiding (at least for a few hours) the craziness of Halloween.

B-I-G, B-I-G mistake!

Union Square is the central station for the Halloween parade every year, so without even noticing, I sank even more into the heart of the ‘wackos’ that think that a bloody costume is AWESOME! (Yuck… can you hear me gagging?).
I attempted to get out of the subway and walk to my destination, trying not to lash-out to every person that bumped my shoulder while walking in the opposite direction (that’s the reason I hate shopping in stores)… and not succeeding.
10 paces
Creepy people pushing me around.
12 paces
Ugly smells all over the place.
14 paces
I almost fell over a Zombie on a stop light
… And there I was, heading the other way…
14 paces (in retrocession) later, I was safely concealed into the subway, heading home and plotting for an explanation to give to my husband for the reason that I left the ‘Candy-Fort’ unmanned:

- Dear, I went to buy bread… to Little Italy... Why that far you ask? … Always the best for you, my sweet-pea (all said in a soft, warm voice)

Needless to say that by the end of the day, I was cranky and hungry… cheese tacos are a lame substitution of the real stuffed ones.

YO QUIERO TACO… NO BELL
YO QUIERO TACO A "LA MOI"