"Number one authority on nothing" Matthew Nash
Contact Matt at email@example.com
Matthew Nash hails from Portland, Ore., and stumbled into writing for newspapers when his high school allowed him to write movie reviews. Nash is married to a kindergarten teacher. They have one child together who is named after two superheroes.
Most children munch and gobble the goodies on Halloween. For me, I can barely get down a bite.
Since fifth grade, I've had a complex stemming from a classmates' obsession with face paint.
October 31st has never been my best holiday. In first grade, I spent the holiday over a toilet bowl because I ate too much candy the night before. In second grade I spent the night at a friend's house and ate tainted blueberry pancakes at breakfast that resulted in much of the same as the year before.
So, my stomach remains on edge ever since.
In a small elementary school outside of Portland, Ore., I sit in my superman outfit looking at a plate of Halloween themed cafeteria goodies like orange frosted sugar cookies. Next to me are my friends dressed as Power Rangers and vampires.
Enter Ronaldo Robinson (named changed for confidentiality purposes).
He had a fake bloodied white shirt on with green face paint. By lunch time, he had run his heart out at P.E., so the equation of him being slightly larger than most and his mask not being water resistant led to chipping.
He sat down the table from me, but one couldn't help but notice. His friends were poking fun at home before someone got the bright idea of daring him to – GASP – eat his face.
My feet clenched around my chair hoping he didn't do the dirty deed, but he toyed with us all as Ronaldo took a large chunk and waved it above his mouth.
Eventually, a few green specks made it into Ronaldo's French fries and he rolled with the punches.
My mind couldn't take anymore. I discretely left and saw my lunch leave me – what little of it I had eaten.
The rest of the day was nausea seeing him in class, and since October 31st, I've been haunted by the green face class mate Ronaldo Robinson.
Every mini Kit-Kat bar, caramel apple and wax finger are forever etched with a fifth grade lunch that turns my face and stomach green.