Comedian Erin Conroy: All Hallows' Eve Eve

Comedian Erin Conroy

Thursday, October 30, 2008

All Hallows' Eve Eve

Dude - I had a very weird dream last night. I was blind for a little bit, then at a movie premiere for some ridiculous film about dogs that flew planes in World War II, then screaming at an old high school acquaintance for taking my date to the Christmas Dance that was taking place in May, then my Mom was yelling at me for yelling in public, and finally I think I was drowning in taffy.


Anyhoo - tomorrow night is Halloween. As I've mentioned in previous posts, I'm usually overly excited at the prospect of kids in my building trick-or-treating up and down the floors. This year is no different. I'm a sucker for kids in poorly-constructed constumes, and I'll be overjoyed if I get even two kids wearing sheets at my door. I've got Starbursts! Spread the word!

I went to CVS last night to buy the candy that will most likely sit on my counter for months on end, being offered to guests who have a poor sense of taste and/or smell sometime around Arbor Day. When you walk in the store, there's a huge sign directly in front of you that says, "We will not be selling eggs or whipped cream to minors again until November 1st. CVS - We care about our community". While I appreciate their effort to be a daunting part of the neighborhood watch, there are 435 other stores in the area where lil' hooligans can get eggs and shaving cream. I live 2 blocks away, and I pass no less than 8 delis, grocery stores or pharmacies back to my apartment.

While I was checking out, three youngish Spanish kids were in line behind me. Maybe 10 or 11 years old. They were each holding a costume they picked out, and were screaming at each other in alternating Spanish and English. Most of the argument was about who was going to wear what and, frankly, quite boring. But just as I was turning to leave, one of them hollers in the other's face, "Whatever, puto! Be a ghost! Did you take your Mom's debit card or what?!?!" I don't know why - but I found that hilarious. And I was tempted to offer to buy them all the eggs and shaving cream they could carry.

So it's been a while since I posted. What have I been doing? Well, I went to Cleveland via Buffalo for my cousin's baby shower. Seriously - what's with all the babies this year? Chillax, everyone in my life. I can't take another discussion about bibs that match booties and what butt paste is for. (Oh yeah - there's such a thing.)

I also went back to Buffalo recently with my friend Sylvia. I'm starting to think that maybe I make Buffalo sound like a Third World Nation when I talk about it, because every time a friend comes back to visit, they're shocked at all the modern amenities and stores. We were driving back from the airport, and as Sylvia was looking out the window, I heard her exclamations of disbelief:
"Whoa! Holiday Inn!"
"Oh, you guys have a Linens-N-Things here? You never told me that."
"Shit! Arby's!"

Now I know Buffalo may not be a thriving metropolis, but we do well enough to warrant an Arby's. And don't let anyone tell you different.

I'm trying to decide whether or not to get up at a decent hour on Sunday morning and head out to my old neighborhood to watch the NYC Marathon. It really is an awesome experience - you get to see so many different types of people racing - young and old, professional or in a wheelchair, French or someone who intends to finish the race (snap!), and it's a truly inspirational day. And I know it means a lot to everyone racing by that I'm there to help cheer them on, by yelling and clapping. But not the whole time, because my throat gets sore and I have to take time out to drink my fancy coffees. And have you ever tried to clap your hands for 5 hours straight in November weather? That's hard. No one can fault me if after clapping for a good 17 minutes I need to sit down and moisturize my hand for the next 3 hours. If you think it's easy, I suggest you put your money where your mouth is and cheer for yourself. But you should probably train for at least a year before-hand.


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