I'll explain what the fuck happened on Halloween

Ethel here with some more to say about Halloween! I was just going to comment on the last post, but I now realize that I actually have some (maybe not so) important details to add. First of all, I must use this time to clarify something: I was not merely a slutty Native American! I was going along with the Peter Pan theme and in reality went as Tiger Lily (I’m not really sure who she is either). Next year I’ll have to be more obvious in my costume choice. I must also thank Trotsky for reminding me about my run in with the randos on the street. Did not remember making a pass at anyone, but I now realize that I indeed did. The important thing is that I didn’t go home with them and not all Bolsheviks can say that about Halloween night. I also have to let my temper come out a bit, because I was not so happy to hear that our gift of beer went to such waste (although I do imagine it was quite a fun time). Just the other day, the giver of that gift brought up that he had left that for the members of 2H. Now, I had seen the empty beer case the next morning, but figured someone had just left it there after drinking it. I certainly did not realize the owner had actually left an almost full case as a kind gesture. Upon realizing this, I wondered who had taken in from us! Being that I always think of my fellow Bolsheviks as being kind people who value their friendships, I never imagined it could have been one of them. So, you must be able to imagine my surprise when reading that last post. I do feel a little betrayed and also look forward to the next time that I can steal your alcohol from right under you, you dirty bastards.

Moving on. As Trotsky pointed out, the group was separated more than once during the night. Here are some things he missed. Most importantly, he missed the hot dog stand. What a damn good idea! Who isn’t hungry after an exhausting walk down franklin st? I sure as hell was and once I saw the beauty that was preservative filled mystery meat, there was no turning back. I had to have one, so, along with a few lucky others, I indulged myself with deliciousness. It was 30 seconds of pure joy. Having experienced bliss in a bun, we moved on to meet up with Trotsky, Caesar and some others. Upon entering the dance party, I noticed some fellas in the back doing what they referred to as the “hoola hoop dance.” Noticing the curious expression that spread across my face, they promptly encouraged me to join. So, I hesitantly began the dance. However, still not able to grasp the reasoning for such a dance, I quickly moved on. In fact, we moved on from the party altogether. At some point along the way to Townhouse, we were separated again and at this point, my roommate and I found ourselves at what I can only refer to as a “table party.” I call it this because everyone was drinking on a picnic table outside. It was different and we liked it, so we hopped on the table and grabbed the franzia (most of which would end up going down my left nostril). The group soon discovered the rotting pumpkins and feeling adventurous, a few members of the party decided it would be fun to throw them into the stone wall and break them. Unfortunately, most of the pumpkin ended up on those who threw them and that quickly spread to any bystanders, including myself. It is difficult to describe the foul smell that was now being emitted by our bodies. I can only advocate that people please not let their carved pumpkins sit for too long, for there is an appropriate time to say goodbye, even if that time happens to come before Halloween.

It’s important to note, in an attempt to show that we do indeed have manners, that my roommate and never fully realized that the renters of the house which we had gotten so much joy out of were not actually at the house. It is an easy detail to miss when franzia and pumpkins find your attention. So, it was a surprise to us that as we walked out of the kitchen with beers in hand, we stumbled upon two shocked and irritated renters. It seemed it was time to leave.

After a quick stop at Mill Creek, where a lot of bruises were created (it’s difficult to keep your feet on the ground after a night of Riot Punch), we headed back to our lovely abode and called it a night. And there, for you, is a little addition to an in-depth look at Bolsheviks Halloween-ing.