It began shortly after returning home from work. After 500 pieces of candy we had to turn the lights off around 7:30, lock the doors and escape inside for dinner. Not a single kid was willing to perform a trick, though quite a few were asked. In fairness, we didn't perform any tricks either (though we joked about how easy it would be to swindle these costumers like gullible Americans in San Salvador changing money. The temptation to make candy on each exchange was strong but finally proved not strong enough). Some said, yes, they knew a few tricks, but by then they had already gotten their candy and. S and I were dressed up in each other's costumes, or half-assed combinations thereof. (At the adult party on Saturday she was Ann Cultoir or however it spells itself. Double-takes all night- blond wig disconcerting - not to mention the things issuing from her mouth. I was simply a billionaire for Ann, sidekick in other words, stetson hat and pinstripe gel in hair long overdue (for a cut).) But tonight we sat on the swing and S was pinstriped (and to be honest, I wasn't wearing anything, costume-like) drinking beer in bottles. Cameras flashed; parents were recording our hand outs, silly puddy for silly faces, engaging each child just patronizingly enough in brief, adorable discourse.
The boy with "bring them home" duct-taped on the back of his soldier suit got...three pieces of candy. (Some unfortunate grabbers got a photo of Dick Cheney - we'd placed them in the bowl just for the grabbers (as opposed to the reluctant chorus-chanters).) Every animal was asked to roar, and did. (nb. I do believe one carrot also roared.) Too many batmans, princesses and bloody knives, for sure. It was like a cattle drive at moments, or assembly line. Personally I blame the neighbors, who were showing movies on giant screens, with popcorn and (wtf?) pizza. Some had decorated weeks in advance. The dogs seemed to enjoy the carnival (and in fairness, most kids seemed more excited to see dogs, or rather as they summarily insulted them, "doggies"...than any of that other tacky shit).
Composed on a bottle and 2/3 of wine with all rights to re-edit firmly witheld.