(Probably super obvious to anyone who’s not me, but just let me have this.)
I’ve had this bopping around my head for a while and was going to post it during that holiday week before the election (Sleepy Holloween? Diwaloween?), after taking a walk past the skeletons of the local haunted hayride. But somehow, this seems even more relevant now…
I hate scary things, ironically enough considering where I live. The last horror movie that I remember seeing was The Ring at a Girl Scouts slumber party.
So when my friend reaaaally wanted to visit a haunted house in Krakow, I reaaaally didn’t want to go.
But we’d spent most of the week hacking our lungs out, and it was conveniently right across the street, so we went. We were told that we couldn’t go in with just two people, so we’d have to wait for the next group. A bunch of guys were there, joking around, getting ready to go in.
We came back later to find the same group of guys, faces frozen with terror, muttering about how one of them had freaked out so badly he’d hit one of the monsters and they had to leave. Now I was definitely wondering what I’d gotten myself into.Read more