My favorite part of the Halloween season is candy corn. With the increase in demand, stores seem more likely to have fresh stock. I'm known to indulge in full bags of fresh candy corn without even resenting the sick feeling I get afterward. Everything else about Halloween, I can take it or leave it. Mostly I prefer to leave it.If I were to guess, I'd say that I peaked out with Halloween after fourth grade. I know, I'm a real Debbie Downer. Maybe there just wasn't any higher pinnacle for me than that year of dressing like female baseball players from A League of Their Own with a few of my friends. After that, most costume choices are a blur of pulling random mismatched clothes out of closets merely so that people would toss candy in my pillowcase still.
As it turns out, I can also think of ways that I'd rather spend the $50-100 that people regularly invest in this outfit that they'll wear for six hours. For example, the guy I passed in the stairwell as I headed back up to my apartment tonight. He was wearing a nylon Biggest Loser fat suit. Odds that he'll wear that again? Slim to none. People aren't into repeats for the next year; they have to out-perform themselves.
Maybe one day I'll live in a neighborhood where innocent children dressed at superheroes come giggling and yelling "Trick or Treat!", and I happily distributed fun size candy bars (or whatever hypo-allergenic, non-food item is consider acceptable to the parents of 21st century children). Until then, I'll continue to have disdain for a weekend that means little more to my peers than drunken debauchery and overpriced, underclothed ensembles.
Bah humbug and goodnight.
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