What a night.
It all started out at work. I received a call saying an acquaintance of mine had JUST DIED at my apartment building!!
I was in shock.
I won’t go into any details, but it essentially was an overdose of liquid Vocodin. I’ve never heard of Vicodin in that form until I saw him holding the very large bottle a few days before saying his doctor had prescribed him TWO of them for the surgery he just had.
If we only knew….
Very, very sad.
Hours after I received the call, Nancy and I went to see the new horror movie “Paranormal Activity”
Oh boy. Not the best timing. It was a freaky movie. On several levels considering the prior unfortunate event.
I arrived home to the Coroner’s van and a few cop cars blocking our street. Reality was creeping in.
I walked in to see the cops speaking with everyone while his body lay in the apartment waiting for the family to arrive. Quite morbid, I walked upstairs to avoid the oppressive scene.
Moments later myself and some friends were on the road to Pasadena to have dinner at Green Street and then head to the Old Town Haunt, a haunted house attraction to amp ourselves up for the pending macabre holiday.
I love Halloween. I can’t even describe how much.
Green Street is an upscale but reasonably priced joint with a nice outdoor patio.
I ordered the meatloaf sandwich with Asiago cheese. The cheese was overpowering and unnecessary but overall a tasty sandwich.
(The second half of this sandwich was later left in the trunk of my car overnight to rot and stink it up.)
Bonnie’s salad was enormous and set inside a bowl the size of a flying saucer. Not a model one, an actual sized one.
We also ordered some very odd tasting nachos to start. Clyde would not stop eating them, even though he kept complaining how full he was and still had an unfinished meal in front of him.
The haunted house was very entertaining. As we waited in the VIP line to enter, a man dressed up as an insane clown killer was scraping a shovel against the pavement, which made the most obnoxious sound, to entice passersby to the attraction.
There was essentially a monster or ghoul around every corner of the maze ready to scare us. I made sure to jump out and attempt to scare them first. It worked…sometimes.
We had to crawl on our hands at a certain point in a pitch black tunnel. This was the freakiest part.
I refused to continue as the “sucker in front” at a certain point, knowing that some creepy crawly would touch my head and accidentally get my fist in his face, which I believe is frowned upon.
I did not look forward coming home that night. The building was dark and quiet. I walked by the room where he had died and noticed through the window that the mattress had been removed.
The cigarettes he had been offering to everyone in a Vicodin-induced haze days before, lay next to the bed on a table surrounded by a few pairs of shoes.
Rest in Peace, FM.