How Fright Nights Taught Me I Was Destined To Die Alone

Every October Vancouver’s Play-land becomes a ghastly site of terror as the grounds are haunted by creatively evil costumed actors, a thick cloud of machine generated fog for you to choke on, and a number of genuinely scary haunted houses. I’ve gone annually for the last several years and this passed Friday that tradition continued. Unfortunately this year also brought about a terrible epiphany for my roommate and I.

We have no friends. This we knew, but not until Friday Nights was it painstakingly obvious why in the six months we’ve lived in Van we haven’t manged to make a single friend between the two of us.

You see, this year my roommate and I treated one of our few friends to Fright Night as we totally dropped the ball on her drunken birthday camping trip because we’re lowly, forgetful, jackasses.

As three is an odd number and you ride most things in pairs (if you know what I mean) we told her to invite a friend from her art school because we sure as fuck don’t have any other friends to ask. This was our second mistake. The first having been deciding to venture out in public at all.

I know I’ve mentions how immature, gross, and totally lame we are together before but I’m not sure if you can really grasp just how immature, gross and totally lame we are. Unfortunately for our potential new friend she now has a crushing death grip on the subject.

That poor girl. She was a little on the shy side but she seemed to be doing fine. She was taking each newly discovered piece of penis decor in stride and was doing a little bit of bantering herself. That is up until my roommate got home. Right off the bat Janie was comfortable being her disgusting self enlightening everyone on exactly how little she had in the way of good hygiene upon arriving home from work.

She told us how badly she knew she stank and encouraged others to take a whiff of her shirt.  She even had the audacity to draw attention to my boot feet. The bitch. She left me no choice but to retaliate with a few impeccably timed shots at her dry, gapping, unkept vagina.

I can’t believe I just typed that last sentence. Dirty on so many levels.  I’m so sorry mom.

From there it only got worse.

There were more lesbian jokes, colourful threats and Workahloics references than one thought possible. We really have no lives outside of work and our apartment.  And don’t even get me started on your mom jokes. We are tacky, tacky individuals.

Being the shameless pools of pathetic, childish, loneliness that we are, we proceeded to race and wrestle our way up the skytrain escalator and then continued our twisted banter and completely pointless pondering of exactly how far we could drop kick that random three year old in the blue parka during our long ride on public transit.

With that smug grin on his face, probably a good 10ft.

At this point I’m sure the poor girl must have been regretting her decision to leave the safe confides of her home that night and our friend was regretting having asked her too. If by some miracle their hearts weren’t heavy with humiliation realizing Janie was wearing socks with her flats fixed that.

When we arrived at the Park I proceeded to eye fuck the hot guy at the ticket booth and ask Janie how much she enjoyed being felt up by the security woman on the way in. And she did enjoyed it. A lot.  Because she likes pussy.

Do I have any booze or drugs on my person? I don’t know, but if I did it would be between my legs…

We figured we’d hit up the roller coaster first before it got really impossible to get on which lead to an extended display of idiocy as we tried to act oblivious to the giant pumpkin man’s obviously suggestive glances toward Janie and we mocked all the happy couples around us in our bitter jealousy of their happiness. Selfish jerks the lot of them, going around flaunting their joyful healthy relationships. Come on.

We eventually made it onto the ride and let me tell you there were moments when there must have been a good half a foot of air between the cart seat and my ass. It was worth the wait.

We then waited I don’t know how fucking long to get in the haunted house. This was also around the time I forgot how many times I’d threatened in punch my roommate in the tit.

Going on Friday was where we made our third mistake. I’m used to them being busy, but that shit was ridiculous. We must have spent three quarters of our night standing in line which gives you a lot of time to screw around, trade inside jokes, have obnoxious conversations about dumb shit, and gawk at that one chick’s boobs. They were each as big as her head I SWEAR! It’s a miracle she was able to get the safety bar for the Crazy Beach Party ride over her chest. It was like she was keeping the giant teddy bear her boyfriend won her from dishing out $70 at the ring toss in her bra for safe keeping. That or they’ve finally perfected the air bag bra.

Safety First.

The Haunted House was pretty much worth it. Until we hit a fucking road block in the hallway where a group of quivering pussies who were to fucking scared to push their way through a maze of swinging corpses. Little bitches.

After hanging around the park for a couple hours we noticed something funny about Janie’s feet. If you’ve ever gone to any kind of Halloween event you know three things are guaranteed, fake cobwebs, way too easy to scare asian women, and black lights. And what do black lights do to white clothing? Like I don’t know, someone’s socks?

Don’t worry they said. It’ll be dark they said. No one will see them they said.

The best part is that after thoroughly shaming her about her flat inappropriate foot mittens we DID tell her not to worry, that it would be too dark for anyone to notice.

Our night pretty much went on like that. Us making asses of ourselves in line and than making asses of ourselves on rides which included one very uncomfortable ride for me when I had to sit between my roommates legs. She just wouldn’t stop clenching her thighs. What a fucking freak.

The whole trip was kind of disappointing. We where there a solid three and a half hours and only managed to get on five rides and get through one haunted house. Hell I didn’t even see Leatherface until like 20min before we left. Granted my companions demanded we break for a warm beverage to regain circulation in their fingertips and that ate up a bit of time. I might have had to amputate but damn it I could have finally gotten in The Asylum!

I have been in every haunted house EXCEPT The Asylum. Why? Because it’s far from the park entrance and everyone always wants to complete a loop of the park that cannot be  mother fucking done. Not in one night anyway. It’s a crock of horse shit. I want to see what the fuck is in that thing. I mean, I know it’s probably pretty generic. Creepy actor laughing and rocking in a padded room, dude being electrocuted, emergency sirens, but I don’t want to speculate, I want to KNOW! And no, I do not want you to tell me. Dick.


4 thoughts on “How Fright Nights Taught Me I Was Destined To Die Alone

  1. Narissa October 24, 2013 / 9:24 pm

    and now you write about it on your blog… geeeze. I don’t know how shes would feel, knowing that you wrote about her on your blog. dicks haha. love you guys


  2. Andrea Taylor October 24, 2013 / 11:22 pm

    I love this!!!


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