Last year I spent Halloween in London with my ex and his friends…and it was a pretty awful evening to start with. They had all dressed up, they had dictated that we go to Clapham (“it’s not up for discussion Loki now be a good girl and come out of that cushion fort”), they had booked a table at a peculiar looking cocktail place (when I say peculiar I mean it was like a group of pirates had mated with Care Bears and that building was the resulting spawn of said illict affair)…and I was in the bad books with each and every person at the party.
The reason I was in the bad books – I’d spent the whole day travelling back to London from Burnley, I’d been on multiple buses and trains, I hadn’t changed into a scary outfit, I was tired, I was emotionally drained, I was hungry, I didn’t want to drink, I just wanted to sleep!
I’d been in Lancashire for my grandmother’s funeral…and the only outfit I had was the one I’d been wearing at the church (long story).
These facts made little difference…I was still in the bad books.
In typical Loki-Lou fashion I did what I had to do, I got a pint in my system (which was pretty difficult to do in a cocktail bar!), smiled sweetly and told them that my costume was that of a “meticulous serial killer” because hell, if you can identify a murderer on the street from a mere glance (without them having a weapon or drop of blood on them….or being stood at the crime scene) then by all means join the police force as a “Minority Report” style detective.
Also, another issue I encountered was the fact that I was surrounded by people who either worked in IT, worked in marketing or dabbled a bit in arty things (well….if you can count smearing cat shit on a canvas as art)…so you can imagine the looks on their faces when I answered “I am a Neuroscience student at Kings College….Masters level…..I blend brains and experiment on them”. I thought the Dr. Frankenstein approach (while honest) was creepy enough for Halloween.
Instant. Conversation. Killer.
Spending the night picking flecks of paint off a wall was starting to look like the highlight of the evening until someone shouting profanities into the night sky caught my attention just off Severus Road – I told the ex that I was going to see what was up, he waved a hand in my face and continued to ogle the boobs of the girl he was “talking to”.
I may have then sneakily left the bar (taking care to avoid any of this friends) and then darted down that very road shrieking “I am SNAPE!” (I had been drinking for a little while now) after the sweary guy.
(THIS is how you strut like Severus!)
The guy in question was:
(“Screw you bitches! I’m Elmo!”)
Well….technically the guy looked like a 6’2″ version of Elmo who had gotten so bladdered he’s ended up having a fight with Oscar the Grouch in the middle of a landfill site! …He also smelled how I’d imagine someone to smell after a fight with Oscar the Grouch in the middle of a landfill site.
Sweary Elmo had a six pack of beer, Loki had a sensitive ear….the two of us sat on the curb, sharing the beers, and talking about the answer to life, the universe and everything!
We acknowledged that the answer is 42.
Turns out his girlfriend was bumping uglies with his friend, she’d decided to break the news to him while he was dressed up as my second favourite Sesame Street character (good gods my childhood died a little that night!)…for the record Count von Count was the awesome one!
Turns out my ex didn’t realise I’d left the bar until I’d been missing for about two and a half hours…he thought I’d “been in the bathroom all that time”….yeah, that coming from a guy who didn’t believe that women could poo. Hmmm. Questionable reason.
Anyway, the ex and his friends screamed blue murder when they found Elmo and I discussing the merits of relationships while sat facing the pub…apparently it’s very selfish of me to leave a party even if I am being ignored! Who knew! That’s where I’ve been going wrong with party etiquette all my life!
Elmo thought it was hilarious and giggled alot.
I thought it was hilarious and giggled alot.
The ex and his friends scowled alot.
Needless to say…the strop he threw over that incident made the one over Tobias Menzies pale in comparison.
PS – I happened to miss “Mischief Monday” yesterday due to my own silly mischief making antics, tsk tsk tsk….so to all my Tom Hiddleston (and in this case Benedict Cumberbatch) fans, here’s an “I’m sorry I’m late to the party” picture:
(I’m sorry my dears…I hope this makes up for it! )
Today’s post is part of:
Lawson – Taking over me (Happy happy joy joy!)