Wednesday, October 30, 2013


Note: There will be some adult language and pg-rated hints at adult content in this post. Use your discretion if reading at work or with kids.

I don't particularly like Halloween.

Jack-o-lantern (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Oh, sure, there are things I like about Halloween. But pumpkin doughnuts are available most of the fall (note to self: obtain pumpkin doughnuts). Ghost tours peak around this time of year, but can be found any time. Garfield and the Great Pumpkin are available to stream on Amazon Prime. And the internet is chock-full of pictures of small children and pets in costumes.

I'm a grown-ass adult, so if I want candy, I can just buy some. If I want liquor, I can just buy some. If I want to embrace my inner sexy-whatever, I have a husband and a lingerie drawer, and that's really all the information you need about that.

Costume parties, like any situation where you're expected to wear the "right" thing and somehow instinctively know what that is, are way more stressful than fun for me, and that's a lot of money and effort to spend just to feel self-conscious and awkward all night, and for what? The aforementioned candy, liquor, and doughnuts?

Let me tell you about one of my favorite memories of Halloween. When I was in college, I went with some friends to a haunted house. One of the guys had a particularly obnoxious crush on me, and kept using the scenario as an excuse to touch me. Finally, I'd had enough, so I turned around and told him to fuck off, already.

Turns out it wasn't him, but rather a guy who works in the haunted house, trying to scare me. Well, good. I didn't sign a release saying that I gave strange men permission to grab me.  He was welcome to fuck right off, too. Probably not the worst thing he heard all night.

I've had bad experiences with men grabbing me, one of which was even associated with Halloween. I wasn't fond of Halloween before that happened, don't get me wrong. But a situation where women are expected to dress like slutty-whatevers, and then masked men are given permission -- hell, in the case of the haunted house guy, paid -- to grab women without their permission? Might as well call it Rape Culture Day. And that's without the annual rants about little girls' costumes.

Look, if you enjoy Halloween, good for you.  Go, have fun, give M&Ms to toddlers dressed as Iron Man and pet wiener dogs dressed as giraffes. Dress up as a crayon, or a slutty crayon, or whatever.

But if you feel the urge to touch someone, and there's any doubt, even the tiniest bit, as to whether that person wants you to? Shove your hands in your pockets and fuck the fuck off.

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