“So Paranormal Activity plays today down the street. What movie time do you want to go to, the 12:10 or the 12:40?”
I just sort of pretended to ignore him. I was actually getting really good at that. Listening, but not really listening, responding, but not really responding. So I did a bit of a grunt. Which in essence doesn’t mean anything, except that I am not about to answer that question.
I don’t like scary movies, ok? I don’t like roller coasters…or amusement park rides…Freddy Krueger ..or Marilyn Manson. I don’t even like when Lady GaGa wears that weird shit over her eyes. Cause, man that shit is scary!
I have never understood this whole, ”Lets scare the shit out of each other”. Life is scary enough, why would I want to purposely frightened myself into thinking I am going to die or be attacked? You want to be frightened? How about you go to the old man’s house at the end of my block who has a no smoking, oxygen in use sign outside his front door, accompanied by a shovel and an empty gun barrel. You let me know how scary that place is.
Spooky World’s haunted house revives itself up every Halloween for group tours and will be visited by many people this year. Me, not being one of them. If I had a nickel for every time my boyfriend asks me when we are going to Spooky World….well I would have 5 , maybe 7 nickels. But the point is, why can’t people just accept that being scared is so very ‘not my scene’. Some people hate going to clubs, some people won’t attend a museam opening or refuse tickets to the ballet…well ‘Scary’ is just not the club I choose to get on the VIP list for. NO. THANK. YOU. No amount of free vodka and cranberry juice would convince me to go to a haunted house.(Although how much would we be talking about?)
“So which time are you thinking? We could go to lunch first before? A nice lunch, that I would pay for?”
Damn him, he was getting almost as good as prevailing as I was at avoiding things.
Fuck, lunch, he had to bring a good lunch into the equation didn’t he? Not attending a good sit down lunch is like refusing a brownie from a grandmother. YOU JUST TAKE THE GODDAMN BROWNIE!
“How scary is it going to be? Because I heard you will never want to go to go to sleep ever again.”
He simply gave me a look.
Damnit.
“Ok fine.” I said. “But here is the deal. If we go to this movie, then every night for the next month, when I have to go to the bathroom at 4am, I am waking you up and you are walking across the house with me to the bathroom.”
“Fine. Deal.”
“No, really, I am serious. Every. Time. I. Have. To. Go To. The. Bathroom. In. The. Middle. Of. The. Night. You. Have. To. Come. With. Me.”
“Yes. Fine.”
TWICE DAMNIT.
Next time I will have to up the anti.
October 19th, 2009 at 10:39 am
So? How scary was it?