For the first few houses we went to, my friend and I were rather timid, feeling very out of place. As the evening progressed, we realized we could be doing much worse. At least we were wearing costumes. The same could not be said for the pair of boys wearing plain hooded sweatshirts and carrying garbage bags over their shoulders. What was the deal with the boy wearing a red Teletubbie costume, riding his bike up the street while his two un-costumed friends trailed behind. Were they even trick-or-treating?
I felt bad for the woman who's dog ran out of the house as she hurriedly stuffed Fun Dips into our bags yelling, "Buster, I got turkey!!!" Her words combined with a hoarse, smokes a pack a day voice lent incredible irony to the situation as she stepped out of her oversized McMansion. We watched from the next house over as she drove down the road with the window down, screeching her dog's name.
Realizing the woman's reaction to her dog running away was as funny as it was sad made me question if I should be trick-or-treating. These feelings were brought up again when I had to stop myself from complimenting the woman who opened her door sporting an Ommegang Brewery t-shirt. The icing on the cake, however, was a clever neon sign in a window that read "Bates Motel." And I got the reference. Maybe the real hint should have been when I got home, with a few more pounds of candy than when I started, and all I could think was, "Who's gonna eat this?"
|The other part of the sandwich (jelly) wore her half home|
|The best decoration of the night|