It is the 29th October 2013 and over the next few days two significant events are about to happen. One event being Halloween and the second being the removal of my toenail from the toe that went to market. In not wanting to repulse you by talking about the latter event, so I have made an executive decision to discuss my previously distressing experiences of Halloween. Ahum, without further ado...
Now, I like Halloween, it is one of my favourite times of the year. However, it's not the time of year when I wish to be chased by a chainsaw wielding performing arts graduate, around an abandoned farm that charges twenty great British pounds for entry. Instead of attending such a horror fest as Farmaggedeon or Spooky World, I prefer to remain at home, where I am comfortable in the knowledge that there is nobody in the house who owns a chainsaw. I enjoy the decorative lengths my mother goes to during this time of year, the entire house is covered in novelty ornaments, bits hanging from the ceiling and bobs straddling the walls, as in 'bits and bobs' not a man called Bob. Despite all of this, I cannot help but feel on edge during Halloween, given the numerous, somewhat traumatic experiences I have endured over previous Halloween's.
Once upon a time, I was trick or treating with my younger sister in our local friendly neighbourhood, when we knocked upon the door of an elderly gentleman. This was the kind of elderly gentleman who could break your heart in two, as you spot him struggling to carry his shopping in the rain, I must warn you however not to be deceived by the images I conjure of such a gentle old man. My sister and I trundled down the gentleman's drive, knocked on his door and yelped that oh so familiar, yet mildly intimidating proposition of trick or treat. The elderly gentleman opted for treat and filled our communal bag with a small package, of which no doubt scrumptious treats were hibernating inside.
Now I am surprised we managed to share a bag as we don't always get along, but I am nice to my sister, for the simple reason that you never know when you might need a kidney. Oh how excited we were! We arrived home and tipped our bursting bag of confectionery treats onto the living room floor, my mother then went through the goods to see what she could salvage for herself. In doing so, she discovered that this package the elderly man had presented to my 10 year old self, and then six year old sister was not containing chocolate, jaw-breaking sweets, or other diabetes inducing confectionery. Instead this fragile gentleman had chosen to treat us to the chemical pesticide that is more commonly known as moth balls. How cruel!
Either way, it soon turned out he had been conning the social by claiming incapacity, but teaching snowboarding classes on the side, so we were the real winners.
Halloween of 2009 I found myself at a bus stop in the early evening, waiting for a bus, as one does. I was with someone from college who at the time was making a phone call when two children walked past, a boy and a girl, possibly siblings and probably around the age of twelve. I was stood minding my own business when the aforementioned children walk past, before then proposing the ultimatum of "trick or treat?" As an infinitely wise chap who had no confectionery on his person and believed he could defuse the situation, I replied "trick!" It was at this point that I was then kicked in the shin, fell to the floor and the future of society ran away laughing at me, my loss of age based prowess, and what was likely to become a nasty bruise.
This Halloween I intend to visit my grandmother for pea soup, chocolate cake and tea. I think I will be safe there.