This entry was posted on 10/29/2006 10:50 AM and is filed under uncategorized.
Ohio, USA
9pm
Chaos & costumes in downtown Kent.
This year, Halloween 2006 starts at Ryan’s house. Once I entered his apartment, presentations began…Jason, Michelle and Ashleigh nice to meet you! –Oh, well, -Jason adds- don’t worry, in 5 minutes you won’t remember our names. They are all drunk. Suddenly, once I repeat their names –Jason, Mixxxellle,Ashl…- Michelle starts asking me something unusual:
-Wait, wait!! Can you repeat my name?
-Mixxelle
-Oh, sooo cute!! Repeat it again!!! And again, and again, and again…She only stop asking me when I told her to pay me five cents every time I do. For some reason that I couldn’t identify, there was something in my English accent that enhanced her name to a point that she wanted to hear it over and over like a live recording from my mouth.
-Tomorrow I’m working…Jason tells me. I enter at 8 o’clock.
-Geeez! What’s your shift?
-Ten hours….I will go hammered, that’s for sure, but, while I have booze and good sex tonight, that’s enough for me –he says while he looks at Michelle lecherously. Who doesn’t? J
In half and hour, and about ten Jagermeister shots later, we were ready for downtown. At this point, Michelle and Ashleigh already wear slut-like outfits that will make virtually all guys in Kent whistle at them. I leave them to your imagination.
While walking towards downtown, thriving through a windy-zero-Celsius night, Michelle notices a familiar whiff coming from some strangers:
-Hey guys, what are you smoking here? She asks.
-Come here and you’ll find out…
It was pot.
The mood increases in uncontrolled hilarity as we approach the pubs. Jason starts high-fiving all hands from the people we cross along. But suddenly, Ashleigh starts running in the opposite directions, losing her costume partly on the way. She’s shouting, screaming. Err… Did I missed something?
-What happens? I ask Ryan. Ashleigh then stops. She run amok for 20 meters. Michelle, clarifies me:
-She is afraid of clowns.
She is afraid of clowns? And she’s going downtown on a Halloween night?
-I am also afraid…I can’t withstand them. They are sooo scary! Michelle adds.
-Afraid of clowns? Are you serious?? –I ask befuddled. Turns out, Michelle has clownphobia or pallasophobia for the Latin comunitites.
-I can’t see them…Look! Oh, no! There is another one! And then she hides her face with her bare hands.
I can't believe it!! They fear them after watching the movie “IT”. Don't watch it!
Five minutes later, among a frenzy crowd of costumes of all types, Jason disappears.
-Hey, where is Jason? The conversation “here, there, hey, that looks him, no wait…” takes place.
-He’s pissed off with me. Michelle clarifies. Jason just kept walking oblivious to us.
-He’s angry with me because I smoked a cigarette that I found on the ground…but it was from your sister, Ryan, it’s your fault!! Ok, the couple split. I guess Jason just missed some good sex tonight.
At this point Ryan& co go back to their apartment –for booze reloading. Then, the trhilling night starts for me: looking for drunk teens being arrested!
I found them, at the crossroad between Franklin and South Water street. Five officer stand together protecting walking drunk people from being run over by cars. A Banana asks them: are you police for reeeal? –Do something wrong and you’ll find out! One witty officer answers.
Who's that guy on the upper-front? Yeah, I appeared in the Record-Courier front page, check it out:http://www.recordpub.com/ 10/29/06 issue 
Then, suddenly, a teen (the one in the picture) with a wig (or is his real hair?) is caught with an open beer. The officer in SWAT-like gear next to me says:
-If he’s above age, he won’t be arrested. He isn’t. He is 18. Bad luck. Tonight he sleeps in jail. The teen’s face turns grim, the officers pull out their plastic handcuffs and they nail him. His friend Flash Gordon approaches them begging them not to arrest him. In vain. The policeman are tight-aggressive characters unleashed now. His fate is sealed, he will sleep in the ZOO.
Half an hour later, in front of the Glory Days pub, a guy is knock out in the ground. Confusion pops out. Officers come to the scene, firefighters rush in, ambulances stop by. The street is immediately closed. If not because of Halloween, someone would think a bank robbery just happened. The officers have to fight their way through scores of cowboys, Batmans, giant-cocks suits and lots of girls in hooker outfits. Besides being at zero Celsius, the girls are dressing amazingly provocative. You can barely walk five meters without risking to hit a light pole watching at them.
So the cops start taking over: -Back off, back off everybody!! Nobody moves. “Back off or you all go to jail!!!” Then everybody starts running.
They round up Batmans and Jokers alike. Finally, they reach a guy that is laying on the pavement. Someone punched him, -But who, who?? The officers ask.
-There!! A Mary Poppins shouts. Police chase the suspect and catch a guy in a Scarface costume.
-I did nothing, I did nothing…!!! In vain. Handcuffed & shipped away. –Shut your F*** mouth! Shout your mouth! The officers keep yelling at him.
Then, a total confusion starts. Looks like there is an accomplice loose somewhere around. He needs to be arrested, of course. But how he looks like? Is he a Superman? Is he an apple? Someone shouts he thinks is a toilet. Then somebody else drops the bomb: He is still inside the pub!!
-INSIDE THE PUB??? The officers open their eyes. They realize what a ton of bullshit is awaiting for them if this is true. Can they imagine having to go inside the pub swimming between all this obnoxious drunk people, and asking questions that nobody will take seriously at first? Observing how they collect data from “alleged” witnesses is a poem to behold. You realize that the amount of incomplete information they face is overwhelming. While one cop is asking a girl about the fight, for example, a half-drunk Peter-Pan interrupts him with some stupid side-remark;
-Can I talk with her for a moment??? The officer cuts the annoying Pan.
Finally, they storm the pub. Everybody is freaking out. At the beginning people seems confused: Are they officers for real or fake ones? But after some shoots in the roof, the doubts are dismissed quickly. No, I’m kidding. Ten minutes later, the officers come back out bare-handed. Nobody knows anything. They can’t figure it out.
The temperature falls below zero in crescendo and I feel increasingly tired. It’s sad to say good night to all this hookers around, but sleep asks me its share.
