This has nothing to do with pop culture. That is largely predictable and seems to never change much year to year. Vampires or wizards will dominate the fall season and some independent film will emerge as a critical darling and for weeks your friends will curse your name or spit in your face for not having watched it yet. Also, a long-forgotten artist will "re-invent" themselves and ride their hit new single out for all of two months until they creep back to general obscurity, not to be taken seriously again until next fall when they are photographed escaping a car accident or holding a pet.
No, the following is just a bunch of things that the human race as a collective will inevitably have to deal with over the next two to three dreary grey months. They're somewhat "First World problem"-y, sure, but expect any one of these things to ruin your day.
- A guy at your office you hate will overuse the adjective "brisk".
- A woman wearing a blue cardigan, holding a wooden bowl of potato salad she made for her sister's potluck, will take public transportation and as said vehicle lurches she will gasp each time.
- The season of pies and syrups will get progressively more and more cringeworthy to enjoy as countless people develop gluten "allergies" they only just found out about. Some guy will cement himself as the neighborhood pariah and get automatically uninvited from every party ever when he decides to hand out rice-cakes to children on Halloween. This is probably the same guy who when he sees your Halloween decorations for the first time, he'll tell you that you ought to clean out your eavestrough because of all the cobwebs! Just take it in stride and count backwards from ten. You could make a super witty comeback about how the carnage on your front lawn is about to get real, but don't.
- The couple who spent the last five weeks plotting the perfect "couples" costume and have spent countless hours harassing fabric store employees and many waking nights on the verge of tears that the concept is crumbling around them will see it all pay off when they get to stand in the corner the majority of the night, hoping someone will care enough to ask them to explain it, and see a single photo emerge around November 14th on Facebook that they will have to tag themselves in because everyone else has forgotten their first names in shame. The couple themselves will also be the only ones to "like" the photo or have it in any way engage their lives with false joy. You also just know that a lonely guy is going to bring a folding chair with him so he can go as "Obama and Eastwood". Calling it now.
-At least one fistfight will break out over "Halloween" vs. "Hallowe'en". Apostrophe, yay or nay? Uh-oh, looks like everybody has had one to many "fun" "themed" drinks and surfacing personal lives are the real "spooky demons" here! I'm eating a cupcake that is adorned with icing that is either supposed to be a spider or a C-section scar! And yes, it's gluten-free, so it tastes like death!!!!
- Your cousin's new boyfriend, a certified d-bag who is majoring in something like "Art Philosophy" or "Post-Modernism as a Function in Everyday Society as it Correlates to the Average Man" will loudly lecture a family he's never met on how Thanksgiving has become too commercialized, how he is renouncing pilgrim-age, and how you need to buy a five-dollar bracelet from him if we ever hope to stop this really intense thing he first heard about thirty-six hours ago.
- You will attend a tour of a jam factory, either because you were hypnotized into it, or have been bribed with the promise of coitus at a later date. You will walk through many strange rooms that feature technology behind your wildest dreams which essentially serve the task of repeatedly crushing berries. A guy who doesn't like his life leads. You will briefly remember the word "gooseberry" and wonder if it is a berry that tastes like a goose or the by-product of a goose and a berry. It is not that much fun, however, some teenage kid who is inexplicably there will take the opportunity to joke "Yo, this my jam" with each room passing.
- Teenagers between the ages of 13 to 29 will continue that practise of thinking they are far ballsier than they actually are by going out five minutes after the real Trick-or-Treaters have gone in wearing an "ironic" cowboy hat or hammer-and-sickle patch and begging for candy. When that fails, they will take pictures of themselves in compromising positions with plastic skeletons and smash pumpkins in the middle of the street, just not near that car 'cause that's their mom's car. Congratulations, you have succeeded in mauling a poor defenseless pumpkin that has already had its day made by having its face carved. That more or less makes you as edgy as a squirrel.
- Mitt Romney will win the November election, but as he approaches the podium to give his victory speech, the blindling light of a million cameras' flashbulbs will cause his internal wiring to overheat and short-circuit. Barack Obama, who knew this was going to happen and was halfway through a fake concession speech, rips it up, disappears behind a smoke bomb, and takes Romney's place, his victory speech being chalked up to five and a half words, "Ain't nothing but a thang." The story has a happy ending, though, as Mitt was President for five seconds, he is promptly repainted and shipped to California to star in Disneyland's Hall of Presidents, playing an animatronic version of himself. His sons decide to open up a Five Guys Burgers franchise, and kick off each lunch hour with acoustic versions of Dave Matthews songs. Also, Mitt's life story is sold to FOX to produce a 13-episode series starring an aged Ted Danson. The opening credits feature an animation of a scared-looking dog atop a car roof and a soulful-sounding guy crooning,"Hey, hey, it's the Romneys" as we pan up to the clouds. Paul Ryan plays himself, the wacky next door neighbor who has to occasionally crash on Mitt's couch when he says something stupid to his wife and / or his cable is on the fritz. His catchphrase is "Ohhhhh, bummer!" "The Romneys" is filmed in front of a white studio audience.
- Autumn is the season of pins, so just get ready for that. Commemorative, festive, nine-dollar ones that you eventually buy just to make the new d-bag boyfriend shut up. While pins are a great way to spread awareness in a fashionable way, they are also a great way to spread stabbing pains just above your left nipple area. Man has yet to find a way to protect this, so just do what I do and spend your entire life wearing a breastplate of foam core.
- That horrid tradition will continue where kindergarten children are brainwashed into tracing their hands to look like a turkey.This would be okay, and slightly more fun, if the timing were better. It is sort of morbid to teach children that their hands look like turkeys right before we prepare to eat a bunch of them. What kind of sick cannibalistic agenda is that? And hey, I wonder if children in Turkey trace their hands to look like North Americas. I have always wondered that! For like six days at least.