As soon as the sun drops and the heat finally dies, we crawl out of our air-conditioned coffins (a.k.a. houses) looking cute and ready to hunt. Our prey? 24/7 diners, In-N-Out runs at 2 a.m., glowing casinos, and any spot still serving cold drinks with tiny umbrellas.
We feast, we laugh, we mingle with the rest of the coven — all fellow sun-avoiding ghouls thriving in the glorious darkness.
Then dawn hits. Panic mode. We sprint home like the devil’s chasing us, slam the blackout curtains, crank the AC to Arctic, and hide until the fiery monster in the sky goes away again.
For two and a half glorious months, this is peak happiness. Pale by choice. Sweaty never.
See you after dark, darlings. ✨
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