Tell Us About Your Most Stressful Halloween Celebration

Illustration for article titled Tell Us About Your Most Stressful Halloween Celebration
Image: Justin Sullivan (Getty Images)

Happy Halloween! Clearly, this year’s festivities are going to be much, much different than other years, so instead of letting that depress you, I’d like us all to consider the terrible celebrations of spooky nights past. What was your most stressful Halloween experience? What happened? And most importantly, is it hilarious? Drop those stories in the comment below.

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But before all that, let’s take a look at last week’s winners. These are the most mortifying things that you’ve ever done.

Chelegance, I appreciate your bravery:

Decided, rather than skip a turn, to spell out the word “CUM” whilst playing Scrabble with my boyfriend and his rather middle class parents. He still doesn’t like talking about it.

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Yoda’s Neglected Brother, my god:

When I first moved out, my girlfriend and me moved into a 1 bedroom, 1 bathroom apartment that was on the second floor. So one day, I got hit by one of those “oh christ I need to take a dump” moments. One of those eye-widening, pants coming off as you rush to the toilet moments. Except my girlfriend was in the bathroom.

So there I was, banging on the door, telling her to get out, I gotta go. Bang, bang, bang! Knocking, door’s locked or I’d just run in there and crap in the tub. She says she’ll be out in a minute, but I don’t have a minute. I rush out to the balcony, there’s a railing. I drop trow and hop up on the railing and let loose. It feels great.

I hear a “the fuck!” My downstairs neighbor is outside having a smoke, looking up at me and my butthole as I dump all over her patio. It’s runny, it’s all over the balcony and splattered all on the ground and on her shoes. We lock eyes. She’s about to say something to me when I let loose again. Can’t help it, gotta go.

I lived next to this woman for two more years, and neither of us ever brought this up. It was always there, hanging over me whenever I talked to her.

danebread, you are... something:

Sooooooo many.

When I was a sophomore in high school I was out sick one day and my mom sent a sick note to school with me the next day. The principal called me down to his office, outraged. Mom had written a joke note saying I was out sick because I had the shits. Mom was a riot. We’d snickered over it for a while the night before. Then I’d grabbed the wrong note entirely. She had to call him to explain and apologize.

Years later I wrote a Very Literary Poem about fellatio for a long-distance lover and a copy of it somehow ended up in the quarterly report that I submitted to my boss and my boss’s boss.

Then there was the Airplane Fart. Picture it: We’re over the Pacific somewhere, somewhere between California and Honolulu; the plane is almost completely silent, everybody’s drowsy and dozy after lunch was served, but it’s daytime so everybody’s awake. And then nature calls, and my dumb ass has to answer the phone. I start to stand up, and then... I SWEAR TA GOD, y’all, it was the loudest, longest fart that anybody has ever farted ANYWHERE on this entire planet. I believe they heard it in First Class. Hell, I think they heard it in the COCKPIT. Maybe on the GROUND. I was morrrrrtified. And I was sitting by the bulkhead, near the lavatory, so... EVERYBODY knew, everybody saw. I did not spend the rest of the flight in the can. But I sure did WANT to.

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My name is snow, um FUCK BRIAN?

I was standing against the wall at the roller rink with all my grade school friends when the couples skate was announced. A cute guy named Brian from the grade above us came to a stop in front of me and held out his hand. I was elated and grabbed for his hand. As we skated away, I heard my friend Sara say, “Snow, what are you doing?!” I realized too late that he had been holding out his hand for Sara, who was standing next to me. I didn’t know they liked each other! Brian and I skated in mortified silence for 3 minutes and when the song ended, he said, “Never do that again.”

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Seabassy, lol:

I had a guy I liked over to my apartment for the first time. We’d had some wine and one of those conversations where things keep clicking and you get super intellectually turned on, which turns into regular turned on and you just want to devour the person.

He’s feeling it too and does a sexy little eyebrow raise and I feel like I’m going to explode with anticipation.

I take him by the hand and lead him down the long hallway to my bedroom. He says he’s going to use the bathroom real quick and he’ll be right there.

The bathroom is right next to my bedroom in the hall. I start smoothing the covers, trying to make the bed look nice, and feeling just electric with excitement when I hear, “OH HOLY HELL WHAT THE FUCK?!?”

I sprint next door to the bathroom and he’s standing there with the door open, holding his shirt over his nose and mouth, motioning at the open toilet. It is filled with the longest thickest turd... think Pringle’s can size... just sitting there in its brown stinky glory.

I literally just crumpled to the ground in embarrassment and asked him to leave, but he burst out laughing, “that came out of YOU?!”

I’d recently gone vegan and was having these ginormous poops that were not flushing properly. One happened right before our date and I meant to go buy a plunger and take care if it before he came over and I honestly can’t remember how that plan got derailed. That turd has therefore been there for hours waiting to ruin my life.

We ended up having a good laugh and messing around a little bit anyway. But it was too gross and embarrassing, so I never called him and he never called me. I’ve been married for years now and my husband has never even seen one of my shits.

Gah, apparently I’m still so embarrassed about this that my hands are shaking as I type!

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Relive the horror in the comments below.

Opinions only sometimes my own. Senior Writer, Jezebel. My debut book, LARGER THAN LIFE: A History of Boy Bands, is out now.

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DISCUSSION

I went to 6th street in Austin, TX a couple years after grad school. I went once in grad school and it was fun. A couple short years later and the crazy packed streets and bars were no longer fun.  Hard to even get a drink in most places, costumes just make crushes of people worse.  I think that’s when I really started avoiding crowds.