Quiz: Are You Ready to Reenter Society and Attend that Wiccan Séance?

Now that the High Priestess has declared masks to be safer than deadly adders, our sisters of the dark arts have resumed spellcasting in autumnal forests. Do you feel like you might be ready to interact with real-life, three-dimensional witches again, but aren’t sure how to talk to people after spending seven moons doom-scrolling alone with your cats? Maybe you have forgotten what your personality is like. Or maybe you worry that you’re so full of piss and mandrake vinegar that no one will like you. Take this quiz to see if you are ready to go to that backyard socially distanced incantation this Samhain.

After many moons of hermitage in a backwoods cottage, are you ready to see people again?

A. I would sacrifice a litter of kittens to commune with my coven sisters.

B. As long as we’re all in masks, because I am farting up a whammy from all these roasted pumpkin seeds.

C. Honestly, I’d rather get another Covid-19 nose-pap test than have to put on scratchy tights and pointy shoes.

2. What has been your interaction with society lately?

A. Attended a Witches’ High Tea over Zoom.

B. Broom shopping and takeout pizza.

C. Sexted pictures of my third nipple to the handsome warlock down the road. He didn’t respond, so I turned him into a slug.

3. What level of getting dressed do you still find fulfilling?

A. Long wool dresses and pretty hair and makeup because spiders do not deserve to know what I look like in real life.

B. Burn all bras!

C. I have banished all razors and am embracing my inner sasquatch.

3. Are you comfortable donning a mask in public?

A. I only practice safe masking. Cover that schnoz like a boss.

B. I throw cauldron keggers responsibly, with masks.

C. I will not live my life in fear, with the exception of exorcisms, Revelations, waisted pants, Ted Cruz, and Troll dolls.

4. Does your Tik Tok and/or Zoom of Doom filter look anything like you?

A. What filter?

B. Yes… maybe… ok, not really…

C. Listen, bitch, if you had baby gremlins mutilating one of your $35 lipsticks every time you went and made coffee, you would look like Baba Yaga, too.

5. How crazy do you feel right now?

A. I am managing my crazy with the blood of baby bunnies and bath bombs.

B. Bat crazy, literally. I have become a crazy lady with bats. Everyone was getting a puppy, so…

C. I guess you could say I’m somewhere between selling my soul to a dark force in exchange for immortality and Kimberly Guilfoyle.

6. Now that humans have also discovered masks, how will you continue to vanquish joy?

A. I will use remote online learning to create inert citizens that defund arts programs.

B. I will spread Covid to cancel trick-or-treating because it has co-opted the true meaning of Halloween.

C. Wouldn’t you like to know what I have up my black bell sleeve?

7. What is your self-care routine?

A. It pleases me to sow seeds of discord into America’s Egg McMuffins.

B. I have been eating off the land. Only what I can grow, gather, or disembowel.

C. Sometimes I become a fly and visit Mike Pence’s coif during the most televised and memorable night of his life, and whisper: “Remember our deal?”

If you selected mostly A’s:

Congratulations! You are still delightfully wicked and are all set to reenter into coven society. Grab a mask and a six pack of hell-broth and you will be the life of the socially distant backyard séance!

If you selected mostly B’s:

We might suggest watching a few episodes of The Witches of Eastwick to observe healthy communal conjuring before you attempt to reenter the midnight society of hags. Just speaking as a friend here.

If you selected mostly C’s:

We understand you hate humanity, and that’s totally relatable. Before attending that upcoming rune gathering, however, consider buying another cat. Call your sister (the one that still likes you) and Zoom bomb a board meeting. Haunt their dreams. Watch a few episodes of Charmed to refresh yourself on how to talk like a witch and strike fear into the hearts of men. Remember, the Horned God loves you.

Summer Koester is an award-winning writer and an educator, artivist, and culture disruptor in Lingít Aaní, "Land of Tides," a.k.a. Juneau, Alaska. Her words have appeared in New York Times, The Sun, McSweeney's Internet Tendency, Huffington Post, Insider Magazine, The Independent, and various buses around Juneau.

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