Ran out of spaghetti tonight.
FML!
I went down to the Nasty Market, really frustrated, both I and Mrs Meaty were both convinced we'd bought more at the supermarket. There was the pot boiling away without anywhere near enough to put in it.
On the way down, I encountered a mother taking her young daughter and even younger on out to Trick or Treat. The daughter was frustrated at the delay my getting on the elevator caused to her getting CANDY!!!!! Mother politely declined me holding the main door open for her and family to exit the building, they weren't quite ready yet.
Into the
Nasty Market (zomg that's why it's funny, and ancient Ozmalian taxi 'em up made the same joke in 1995) and I grab a pack of spaghetti. It splits as the guy is scanning it. I ask to go exchange it. He says sure, but take your change first. My spagehetti is on offer, onyl $1.89! He hands me a dime and penny change. A small piece of white grocery bag plastic is clinging to the dime. I pluck it off, he holds his hand out for it and takes it, saying "that's far more valuable".
I am now grinning from ear to ear as I walk home. I reach the lobby and there's a woman with large cat ears on. The first (of four) elevators arrives... continuing down. Fine. The second arrives a few seconds later, also continuing down. Cat ears woman calls after the last occupant: "Who are you to deny us ascension to our homes?"
Finally we get into an elevator. Cat ears woman is pressing everyone's buttons. Tiny old Indian woman reaches into her handbag and pulls out a HUGE Tootsie Roll, and places it into Cat ears woman's Jack o' Lantern basket, declaring "Happy Halloween." Cat ears woman is caught aback and quickly responds with "Trick or Treat!".
My goodness. People in high spirits and talking to strangers in such tones. Not a drunken pubescent in sight to stab us.
Dinner. Wheel of Fortune. Then out! Out into the neighbourhood to see all the kids in costume and decorations and stuff!
Oh. It's almost 8pm, and Hurricane Sandy is depositing a lot of rain on us, so everyone has stayed home. Feel for them. Feel for the fact that every kid we saw was a kid arriving home, accompanied by a frustrated/disappointed parent, and going inside. Or the man whose house we heard before we saw it, for he had a PA system with spooky sounds and wails playing, and a dry ice machine, and a front yard follow of grave stones, coloured lights and decorations. The crowning glory on this creation was a sign reading "Estate Sale: You'd die to live here". I think by this point he was so embittered (we saw him dejectedly rolling up some cable) that he didn't appreciate us laughing at his efforts like he should have done.
We walked for several blocks in various directions, the more elaborate decorations attracting us and then breaking our hearts that it's 8pm and already folks are giving up because of the weather. Those who made more traditional Jack o' Lanterns will find the drizzle has snuffed the candles. Mrs Meaty declares that, nonetheless, it's impressive how much has gone into some of the decorations. Next year, I respond.
We stop on a bridge over the subway (which runs in a cutting in this area, not a tunnel) and indulge in a wacky pursuit my mother taught me: look down at the tracks, and as the train passes underneath you, you get a weird sensation of the floor moving away without you moving. Maybe you have to try it yourself to know what I mean. Two trains rush past at the same time. It feels strange. Woo! Not for the first time tonight, I feel like I'm ten years old again.
On the way home, we encounter a themed British pub. I demand beer for my ordeal. Inside, it's like a small and crappy Wetherspoon. A jovial and OTT Scotsman bids us take his friend's seat and sit at the bar where they served Hobgoblin, Old Speckled Hen and Budvar among other things. Mrs Meaty points out she should just bring her parents here when they visit. I asked who on Earth wants to go abroad to pretend they're back home, before remembering the hordes in Malaga eating roast dinners in the blazing Spanish sun.
Mrs Meaty narrowly avoids some strict questioning (no doubt due to Scotsman, who I suspect is in fact Malc74 spying on me, being drunk) due to her blundering on the query "have you had your flu shots yet?" and we make a swift escape.
A disappointing show for Halloween itself, but a fun evening. A toast was raised to my grandmother who passed away on this date, and we have a story to tell!
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Unfortunately Chloe is in Wales all week. 
