WALK OF SHAME SUNDAY-10/27/13

 

Slut O'Ween really is my favorite holiday of the year *And not just because its Irish* but I am bummed that even though I finally live in a house *On an awesome, family friendly street* I will not be a “Good candy” house. I always thought when I grew up I would be a "Good Candy" house, giving out full size Snickers without breaking a sweat and restocking with flair. *Seriously. I thought my house would be so badass that trick or treaters would bus themselves in just to get a shot at my stash*

The reality is sadly, somewhat of a letdown. I just don't have a ton of extra cash to spend on total strangers *Tiny ones at that* But even with a serious lack of fundage, I did try. I mean I did spend precious weekend hours shopping at the suburban hell known as Wal-Mart. *Valuable tip:Never go to Wal-Mart on a weekend. Or during the week. Or pretty much...ever. Unless you have a death wish or seriously have a lot of time to kill. Like, um, twelve hours. Because that's how long it will take you to check out. For real. And even after you've left the store your soul will still be tainted. #True*

So there I was, smack dab in the epicenter of the evil empire where, in between dodging beef jerky, boot scootin grandmas decked out in half-shirts and jorts... *Or even less*

 

I attempted to avoid the assorted mess of humanity who had already dosed up on Molly and pulled the trigger prematurely on the whole, "Hey, you know what would be amazing right now? Let's dress up, go out and get our rave on!" *At Wal-Mart. On a Sunday afternoon*

 

 

Eventually, having made it through the madness and getting to the front of the checkout line, I now had the privilege of shelling out about thirty bucks for bags of crappy mixed candy like Swedish Fish, Lemonheads and Jolly Rancher lollypops instead of mini Milky Ways and Kit Kat bars. *Sorry, kids but times are tough. Please don't egg my house* Oh, well it could be worse, I could be planning on giving out healthy snacks or something.

Anyway, what I really wanted to share this week was a heartwarming tale of Halloween past. It was only a couple of years ago but it was one of the few times I went full slutty on October 31st. *Scary? You betcha!* Enjoy!

Women use Halloween as a fail safe. A way to show the world what we have been hiding behind our carefully constructed 9 to 5, our professional faces and to do lists. Halloween is the only time of year we can let our inner slut out and not get shamed for it…by other women.

*Cause more than likely they will be dressed up as a pirate whore and won’t give a fuck.*

And I always dress up. Some years are sluttier than others but I always dress up. And sometimes, this makes me *Temporarily* more special than normal and that can be a problem. *For others. Never for me*  As I have previously mentioned *Please see this entire blog for reference* I am not the type of girl that gets all the easy attention. When I walk into the room, I am not the one that is instantly greeted and fawned over. And I’ve learned that some friends prefer me like this. They want to be the ones that steal the thunder and all the boys. In fact, they have gone out of their way to befriend me for this express purpose *I’m not friends with those girls anymore don’t worry *

But on Halloween, I rule and sometimes this is greeted with anger and annoyance by some of my “friends”. I used to have one such frenemy I will call Rachel *Because that is her name* when I was working briefly in Arizona.

We were tight. Super good friends. *Or so I thought* She was five feet nothing, blonde and a former cheerleader. People thought she was an adorable spitfire. *So naturally she was used to getting her way and whoever she wanted.*

 

But she was also *For the most part* down to earth and a lot of fun. One Halloween Rachel threw an epic party. The entire house was decorated, there was way more alcohol than food *Always a great ratio* and most of the population of Phoenix had shown up.   

 

 

*No seriously. These pics are from Arizona. Everyone looks like this there, that's why I had to move away*

 

 

 

I was running late. I was freaking out because I had no idea what to wear. I knew I couldn't compete with the scraps of fabric the other girls were calling  costumes so I finally decided to make up for it with fabulousness. I went as a showgirl in fishnet tights, a corset and lots and lots of glitter.

By the time I finally showed up, the party was in full swing. I walked in and I guess it was the outfit or my "I'm so pissed off because I was running late" attitude but I was instantly given a VIP, gold plated Pretty Girl Discount. Heads turned. Several men asked if I wanted a drink and all the women in the room gave me dirty looks.  *Oooh, spooky*

 

*I couldn’t remember when, if ever, this had ever happened to me. But it was fucking awesome and I loved it!*

Almost instantly a super hot, dirty looking boy with a pierced lip hit on me. Before I could even get liquored up I found myself on the grass in the backyard hooking up with him. *He was an awesome kisser. Plus, I really like hot, dirty looking boys*

 

Eventually, I came inside to take a breather and gather my thoughts *And, let's be honest... gather a large cup of vodka with cranberry juice while I was at it* and that's when I noticed that Rachel was mad. Like really, super angry. At me apparently. When I asked what was going on, she wouldn't say. Just walked away from me like I had poisoned her cat or something.

Then, one by one, all these girls started coming by *Um, Rachel did you send these heifers?!* to talk to me. And they all had the same story. Even though they all were ‘just friends ‘ with the hot, dirty boy it was “Not cool”  that I was hooking up with him. By the way, me and the dirty boy were both definitely single, so this totally did not make sense.

Whatever. I was at a party. This was Halloween. It was supposed to be fun!

But it wasn't fun. It was becoming super uncomfortable. All these girls were throwing shade, Rachel was storming around muttering shit about me and I was all butt hurt because I never get all the attention and was having a moment and Rachel just couldn't let me be great! *Why won't you let me be great Rachel?*

I went back to making out and chatting with the dirty boy  in the backyard but it was becoming increasingly awkward. Being the good friend that I was I decided I would go and try to resolve the issue with Rachel so that Dirty Boy and I could bail and go have some serious fun.

I asked her. Point blank. Do you like this guy? Do you have something going with this dude? She just gave me a chilly look of disapproval and told me, "No. I barely know him." *Ooookay then. What's your deal?* She would not admit to liking him or to being mad. It was like I had violated some super secret tenant of the girl code without realizing it and it was not her job to tell me what I'd done. And then it hit me. She thinks she's prettier than me. And she's pissed that I am getting more attention than her. *And yes, this photo is EXACTLY what her face looked like. EXACTLY*

Wow! Regardless of what passive aggressive potluck she was serving to me, I knew the truth. She was determined that if she was not getting his attention then neither was I. *Ultimate cockblock*

This is how extreme it got. After talking to me, Rachel suddenly freaked out, shut off the music, flipped on the lights and started tearing Halloween decorations off the wall. She yelled, "This party is over people!" It was 10:30pm.

When I went up to her to ask what was wrong *Again. God, sometimes being a girl is just so dang exhausting!* she just gave me a satisfied look and said that she had asked the hot, dirty boy to leave her house so he was gone. She just wanted me to know. *Then she proceeded to tear a heavily duck taped, giant ghost off the wall. With her bare hands.*

Most of the people were bailing the party in droves but there was a small, hearty band of revelers that were not willing to call it a night. *We were totally drunk* So, we kept the party going. Outside. On Rachel's front lawn. *Fuck her* 

I was bummed that the dirty hot boy was forced to leave without saying goodbye to me but eventually, I picked at random a tall muscular guy dressed inexplicably as a Mexican with a giant sombrero *This was Arizona so in frat boy logic I guess he thought he was being ironically funny or something* and went home to his place to have sloppy, drunk sex. *Happy Halloween.*

 

The sex was mostly forgettable *It was totally forgettable. I always forget to add him to my sex list. If I do remember, I usually just add him as ‘The Mexican’ because I don’t remember his name. I don’t think I ever actually knew it.  Oops!*

But I learned something valuable that night. Fake Mexicans aren't necessarily better in bed than real Mexicans and whether we get The Pretty Girl Discount or not, Blondes don't have more fun...Redheads do!

*Hey Rachel, how you like them apples?*