Thursday, November 1, 2012

Those People

Pre-nap angry bitch "those people"
We're those people. We being my kids and I. Yesterday when I left the office in my Mommie Dearest makeup, I could think of only one thing. No, it wasn't, "Gee, how exciting will it be to see all those cute kids in their costumes tonight!". It was more along the lines of, "If I don't sleep someone is going to die. Maybe me. Maybe someone who pisses me off. Someone."

I drove home with my eyes begging me to let them shut, even for a moment. I refused the request and drove home looking a bit like a coked up 80s office executive. From the moment I walked through my front door I began to let them droop. I feigned interest in all text messages that came through as I prepared myself for a bit of slumber. As I climbed the stairs to my room I was stripping off clothes like I was about to stomp onto the screen of a porn film. It's not as sexy as you think. Chances are if my shoes were high enough or my pants were long enough, I rocked those kick ass heels with gym socks. I sit close to the front door, dammit! My feet get cold during the day!

I tucked my feet under the covers and pulled the comforter up tight under my chin and drifted ALMOST to sleep. "BANG BANG BANG!"

It doesn't matter what time of the day it is. If you live in today's world there is no reason EVER to knock on my door unless you know me. Obviously with everything there are exceptions. Dead person on my door step? Sure. Knock. My house is on fire? Okay, let me know. Police? Gotcha. Coming out. If you're selling insurance, water, lawn services, or trying to give me a free turkey because God knows I'm poor... f*ck off. Okay, if God wants me to have a free turkey based on my neighborhood, leave the turkey. It's cold enough out there for a frozen turkey to survive until morning.

Of course with all of these things in mind I couldn't imagine why anyone would knock on my door, especially since my daughter and her boyfriend were in the garage... staring at the aforementioned offenders. "WHAT?! WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT!?!" So I ignored it. Many times. When my phone beeped with the ominous, "you've really been ignoring shit", sound, I sat up angrily. Why the hell can people not just let a person sleep? Seriously! I just want a little time before I work out so I can do it without passing out. What the hell is so wrong with that?

As it turns out, Halloween was what was so wrong with that. Those loud, demanding, extremely obnoxious knocks were from trick-or-treaters. Minutes later my phone chirped at me again. "Do we have candy or is the light on the front step on by accident?"

Now let's be clear about something. We are not THOSE people.. you know... the ones who run out of candy and forget to turn off the light because whomever is supposed to be watching the bowl just spaced it off. No, we're certainly not those people. We are the other THOSE people. We are the ones who stopped handing out candy when our co-workers started bringing their kids to work for handouts. We stopped thinking those damned costumes were precious when our little ones milked us of our last dime getting the latest greatest light up costume known to man. We're the ones who have been dieting and avoiding the candy displays for the last 8 f*cking weeks. You know, we're the ones who put an empty bucket outside their front door with a sign that reads, "If the bucket is empty you got here too late.", but never put any candy in it in the first place. We're the people who can't believe that anyone is trick-or-treating at four in the God Lovin' afternoon!

So, in a round about way, I am trying to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry to the million kids who knocked while I laid in bed crying, "F*CK RIGHT OFF!" Next year, might I recommend going to one of the billion publicly funded trunk-or-treat events sponsored by the churches. Maybe try the local zoos who seem to be fond of giving out sugar on 10-31? Perhaps you can hit up one of the really fancy neighborhoods that hands out full sized candy bars. Let's be honest. If I buy anything next year it will probably be one tiny peanut butter kiss nasty piece of candy. Even then, one of my co-workers suggested gluing that one piece to the bottom of the bucket to taunt people. I'm not those people. Or maybe I am.

Which people are you?

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