Last night, of course, was Halloween. It's a decent enough little spot on the calendar, and I as much as anyone enjoy seeing the kids and passing out the candy.
Passing out candy to the kids, I should say, because it seems that more and more older teens still want their hand in the till, so to speak. Our neighborhood saw trick or treaters smoking, of all things, yet still with their hand out for treats. For crying out loud, where are your parents?
Oh, they're in the cars driving the kids the around. You know, so they can help them gather more loot by covering more territory. And stay in the warm car instead of hiking about the cold streets and actually being with their kids. Way to bond with your family, bozos.
Several kids, upon getting only one piece of free candy had the nerve to tell me, "I'm a big guy," meaning, 'Give me more.' Get lost, punk. One to a customer. I ought to take back the one I gave you for that bit of cheek.
Then, too, many of the revelers didn't even bother with a costume. Get with the program, you little twerps. If you want me to pony up, entertain me by wearing something unusual or scary or something. Other than the obligatory presidential Barack Obama mask (okay, that was truly scary) it was obvious that the only patrons costumed were those whose parents cared about following the rules of the day.
Come on, folks, make the evening festive. Walk door to door, don't trick or treat if you're over 20, and don't be rude or selfish. It's only going to make guys like me swear off the day, and where will you be then?
Yeah, I know, egging my house. I know your type. There were o so many of you at my door yesterday.
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