Happy Halloween?

I love Halloween. I love taking the kids trick-or-treating, I love trick-or drinking (thanks, Contagion!), I thoroughly enjoy scaring older kids to tears, and there's just this primal, pre-Christian feeling about that I truly love.

Well, for the first time EVER, I had to miss it. I had every intention of asking for the night off, but you see, I, amadumbass.

When asked to fill in for the Day Porter at work (oh yeah, I didn't tell you: I'm a night custodian working in the schools as of 3 weeks ago.), I said, "Sure, I could use the overtime."

Yes. A dumbass.

I went in at 6 am. I got home 15 minutes ago. Sixteen hours. STRAIGHT!

Dumb. Ass.

I tried to make up for not being able to scare kids tonight by scaring kids at school, and while somewhat satisifying, it just wasn't the same, though I did get to break up no less than 3 fights during lunch hour in such a way as to cause the little darlings to have to go change their shorts.

One mohawk - sportin' kid asked me if today was The Devil's birthday. I looked as though I was thinking about it and said, "Ya know, I'm not sure. I'll ask him next time I see him." His eyes grew wide for about a half-second before he said, "Heeey!" I smiled and walked away.

Some really wierd shit happened as well, and it started right when I got to work.
The first was, I got a call on my radio from the office. It was "The Boss".

(Not my boss; "The Boss", as anyone in education knows, is The Secretary)

It seems someone broke her wall clock (which she fixed) and a picture frame (which was shattered) and left the jagged remains on the office counter. Now, the last people in the building were myself and the day porter; we went in on Saturday to change a TON of lights and to turn the clocks back.

(Yes, Saturday. DUMB. ASS.)

All I could honestly say was that if I or she (the DP) had broken them, we'd've left a note letting The Boss know. Was anyone in the building after us? No. Was the alarm set? Yes. Were all the doors locked? Yes. Did anyone bring their kids in over the weekend? Stupid question, but No.

We were at a complete and total loss.

About 2o minutes later, I get ANOTHER call on my radio: "Wes, come to the office, please."

(I still get a queasy feeling in my gizzard when I'm summoned to "the office".)

I get to the office to be confronted by a kindergarten teacher asking if I knew how her lamp got broken. She said the door was locked, and when she went into her room, she noticed her lamp was broken and did I know anything about it.

What could I say? "Honestly, I have no idea. Let me take a look at it." I follow her to her room and notice that yes, this is a room in which I turned the clock back, but in a corner away from the clock, there stood her broken lamp.

Now, I was expecting a knocked over lamp with glass on the floor. Nooo, the lamp was standing, but the five "branches" with the shades and bulbs on them were snapped in half!

What the hell?! What could I say to THAT? These people have GOT to be thinking that I'm breaking their shit, and I don't blame them! I would think I did it, too, if I didn't know that I didn't do it.

Whathebloodyhell'sthis?! Doors locked and secured, windows closed, alarm properly set, no message from the alarm company saying they were alerted?

I just don't know.