Here I Sit, A Skeleton, At My Piano

by pjmcbride

…to quote from my Halloween soundtrack, the Roky Erickson tribute album, “When the Pyramid Meets the Eye.”

Actually, here I lurk, like a spider, in my house. And like a spider, I will withdraw into a corner if disturbed. I actually considered not turning on the living-room light to avoid attracting the attraction of strangers demanding candy, but reluctantly decided that would be cheating. I do not, however, throw the door open if I see someone out the window, as Rom would surely do.

Sign at Walgreen’s–“We Have All Your Halloween Needs! Open at 7AM!” Um, that’s not one of my needs, today or any other day.

Sign at McDonald’s–“Please Remove Your Mask Before Entering.”

Sign at even-more-paranoid $ General–“Please Lower Your Hood and Remove Your Mask Before Entering.”

Luckily, my costume consists of a t-shirt and too much makeup, so I didn’t have to remove anything.

Contents of Walgreen’s basket–Astroglide and Aquaphor Lip Repair.


Unlike most scary stories, it doesn’t feature Nick, who is currently at the state taming facility, where only the most humane methods are used, I am sure.

I was at McD’s, peacefully eating my lunch and questioning my wisdom in sitting so near the door (but changing places once I’ve settled on a location is Against the Rules), it being annoyingly windy and brisk. (Eating with my coat on is also Against the Rules.) {“What does Against the Rules mean?” they whisper amongst themselves. Um, Google “stereotypical repetitive behaviors” and you’ll probably come up with something.} An oldish man came up to me and said, “I’d like to give you this. I see you in here a lot,” handed me an envelope (sealed with a 1-cent stamp), and hurried out the door before I could say the first thing that came to mind–“Am I obligated to have sex with you if I accept this?” The envelope contained 2 BIC pens in purple and pink, from the heretofore-unknown-to-me “BIC For Her” collection. So did this guy buy these pens because they were on sale, then realize he didn’t want to use lady pens? Did he buy them for a friend or relative who died unexpectedly, and then think, “Well, that lady I see at McDonald’s all the time might want them”? Did he steal them? Questions abound, especially since I keep making them up.

I was going to include a step-by-step account of what happens when you call 911 and won’t tell us where you are (something people are fond of doing), but I don’t feel like it right now, and you can’t make me. Speaking of which, no, Nick, I will not include a poll asking if readers want me to volunteer for a ride-along with you.