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So here we are again, Friday, October 28th, 'Allerheiligen' is right around the corner, or All Saints Day as it's known throughout the English speaking part of the world.
Back in the day, when I was younger, I always enjoyed this 1st of November, when the family would come together and celebrate the life of the loved ones we lost. Maybe I didn't quite grasp the concept of all of this or I just reveled in the solemnity that was ever so present in this time of year, I don't know, but fact is: if I would have gotten presents also, Christmas would have been a thing of the past.
Of course I have always liked Christmas, I still do, even though I have recognized it for what it is, the despicable face of a money making machinery.
All Saints Day has its very own dynamic so to speak, a dynamic that is closer to my heart than the insanity that evolves in December building up to Christmas Eve.
So yes, you could say that I'm a solemn kind of guy, someone who prefers the quiet of his own thoughts to obsolete conversations with people more or less important to me.
Contrary to what you might think now, I do have friends, and I do like to go out and have a drink and talk about sports and things, but most of the time I like being alone more.
If I feel the need arising to go out and meet friends, I always prefer an evening at a tavern, or 'Wirtshaus' as it's called where I live, to a night out partying in some club or disco or anything similar to those concepts of way to much people in a way to crowded space accompanied by way too loud and shitty music absolutely no one would listen to on their own.
Some might call me a misanthropist, because I really don't like people, at least not meeting new people as I'm content with the ones already in my life. Others my say I'm just a weirdo who occasionally has his moments of actual human normality.
In the end I'm probably a bit of both, even though I would never call myself a misanthropist, since I actually like my friends, all of them, and my family. On the other hand, when confronted with meeting new people, I'm always super tight and close myself off to this new circumstances, but when I do like you, I really do and I'm probably a better friend to you than many of your other so called friends.
So, October 28th, it's right about five o'clock in the afternoon and I'm on my way home from school.
My name is Karl by the way, I'm 19 years old and I'm living in Vienna, the capital of Austria. I'm currently in the last term of a school called HTL in German, which spells out 'Höhere Technische Lerhanstalt', which is a polytechnic school you actually attend a minimum of five years.
Upon graduation I can either start working or attend university, but I haven't decided yet on which path to embark.
My parents on the other hand know and try to push me towards work life, because I think they're scared of me not moving out if I were to be a constantly broke student. I'm already trying to convince them I would be leaving home either way, but they're not quite convinced yet.
I am though.
Don't get me wrong, my parents and I have a really great relationship and as you might have gathered already, I'm not one of the rebellious type, so we get along pretty well as I try to keep to myself even at home.
At first they seemed to worry about me being such a loner, but in the end, above all because my grades have always been good, they let that go and they have accepted me for who I am.
I'm a lonely child by the way, but I'm not quite sure how this fact is influencing my life in particular. Maybe it isn't at all.
My way to and from school usually lasts about 25 to 30 minutes and this time it's no different.
We're living in a single-family house that is located in 'Hietzing', the 13th district of the city, which in certain areas is a rather snobbish district to live in, but in good consciousness my family is not a part of this snobbery.
Our house, like all the others in this neighborhood, is surrounded by a garden on all four sides, which is fenced in by hedges of beech.
As I turn around the last corner on my way home I can already see the skeleton hanging from the black iron gate that connects the street with our driveway.
I have forgotten all about Halloween actually, because I cannot be bothered with it, but my mother has embraced this kind of celebration with open arms. Well, not from the beginning she hasn't, but when her mother died three years ago, not really unexpectedly but still, she took it really hard and all of a sudden All Saints Day has come down on us with all its gloom and doom.
With one of my grandmothers gone, and the other one not getting along with my mother, the family is thinning out and each holiday less and less people are coming together.
So my mother has decided to skip All Saints Day entirely and to focus on this festivity called Halloween.
As I've told you moments before, I cannot be bothered.
My father I believe hasn't still decided yet on what to think about it, but eventually my mother will have him come around.
As I close the iron gate behind me I can already see my mother through the kitchen window as she's preparing dinner. She's got a broad smile on her face as she swiftly moves across the kitchen. I don't think she's taking pleasure in preparing a meal for her husband and son, but in cooking itself.
My maternal grandmother was an insanely gifted cook and I think my mother inherited this right away.
Let me put it this way: so far, not once in my life, have I ever had something to eat in this house that I didn't like.
As I'm nearing the front door my father steps out of it and upon greeting me disappears around the corner to the side where his shed is located.
My father's name is Herbert, he's 54 years old, an overweight lawyer for Austria's federal railway, ÖBB, who likes to spend his spare time, as you might have guessed just now, in the shed behind the house.
He told me once, that his parents kind of urged him to attend university and get a law degree, but his real passion is cars and working on them as he always dreamed of becoming a mechanic when he was young.
The shed behind the house isn't really a shed any longer, but a car port of sorts that has grown exponentially over the years. Right now it hosts two cars that have been built long before I was born. One is a 1965 VW beetle and the other a 1975 BMW 316, actually the first year BMW produced its then new 3-series.
I'm not much of a car geek, big surprise there, but my father talks so much about those two cars right now, that one cannot really get away from all this information pouring out of him. I believe mom is really liking this as well, as in not one bit.
I'm entering the house and more of that Halloween decoration comes into view. It seems a myriad of skeletons and Jack O'Lanterns is plastered across every wall and door inside of the house.
Obviously mom is really taking this Halloween thing to a whole new level.
In the morning, when I got out of the house, all this wasn't there yet, but at one point my mother obviously couldn't brace herself any longer and had to go crazy with it.
I appreciate her effort though not doing this weeks before the actual Halloween night, so I guess a couple days in advance is fine with me.
When the glorious smell of food begins to tickle my olfactory sensors, I suddenly notice how hungry I am.
After taking off my shoes and jacket and putting my backpack on the swivel chair in my room, I come back and walk to the kitchen, where my mother greets me with a peck on the cheek, something I could very well live without.
This whole Halloween thing has mom in such good spirits that she's actually cooking Schnitzel, something she very rarely does during the week as this kind of meal is usually reserved for Sundays. And I'm talking about real Schnitzel, which means she's using veal instead of pork or chicken. As always she's boiling rice as a side dish and prepares a potato salad to be served along with it.
Suddenly the part time misanthrope in me tells me to tread cautiously as something could be up and a hidden agenda may be hiding in all of this.
And sure enough it does.
"Okay mom, what's going on?"
'What do you mean honey?" she replies with the most innocent smile she can muster.
"Mom!"
"Alright, alright. There's something I need to tell you."
I can feel my body really tensing up right now.
"It's about Monday evening Halloween, you know."
No, nothing good will come of this.
"Your father and I..."
Yeah, right!
"...invited some friends over and we're hosting a Halloween party tomorrow."
Ah for fuck's sake!
"If you're choosing to stay home I promise you to leave you alone, but not that it won't be loud. But you've got headphones, right?"
Again she's looking at me with that most innocent of smiles.
As I have told you before, I actually like my family and friends, and I'm not some depressed diva, who thinks all life on Earth revolves around his ego, so I guess I can find a way let some of my mother's good Halloween spirits trickle down on me and not be a dick about this upcoming party.
I wonder how my father has taken this news.
"No worries mom" I say then, "maybe I'll be going out anyway."
My mother's reaction is an inquisitive and incredulous look on her face, and that of course is the correct way of reacting to this statement.
Well, no one knows me better than mom, which of course isn't all too surprising, since she once gave birth to me, a concept of life that creates a special bond between a mother and her child or children.
