Unless you’re an eight-year old or a parent who is thanklessly shackled to escorting an eight-year old, then you’re probably not going to be trick-or- treating this year. You may as well stay home, turn your lights off and hide in the attic, vengefully eating a bowl of candy, as kids mournfully pass by your door, wishing they could take your sweet, sweet candy.
Chances are, though, if you’re not an agoraphobe or a serial killer, you’ll probably end up out with friends, hosting your own party or taking part in some sort of angry mob for Halloween night. Here are some important things to remember, when participating in any kind of monster mash.
This is a big topic, but I’m just going to breeze over this. Wear whatever you please, but remember to make sure it completely obscures your appearance— so whatever crimes you commit (and likely won’t remember) will remain unsolved. Gloves couldn’t hurt either.
If you’re going out at all, I highly recommend that you leave your car at home and either walk, bike, bus or Uber it. Not because I don’t believe that your chosen designated driver won’t drink on the sly (they will), but because your car is possessed and I have it on good authority that Halloween will be the night the demon that inhabits it will be able to reach through the dark veil and strangle you with its seat belt.
Be on the lookout for creatures of the night. Halloween is the one night when real ghosts, goblins and demons can wander among the living. Is it a werewolf or Gary from I.T. on a bender? Is that a real slutty vampire or just your ex, Tricia, in a corset? Is that a ghost, or did old Mrs. Sheridan forget her pills and go wandering into the street nude again? The only way to know for sure, is to be prepared for battle. Bring your stakes, silver bullets, crosses, Voodoo gris gris and holy water along for the night. Be prepared to inflict mortal damage on any suspected fiends, and if they act scared, you know they’re the real deal. Aim for the heart and feel no remorse—the world is a better place without Tina and her vampire herpes. Or, just regular herpes. Either way.
While it can be fun to utterly demolish the few brain cells you have left, it’s prudent to remember that Halloween is the perfect time for a vampire to buy you some "wine" and before you know it, you’re a bloodsucking monster, too. Sure, there are other dangers from overindulgence, such as alcohol poisoning, profaning the back of an Uber with your ill-advised chocolate sauce/gummy bear/tequila combination or waking up in a jail cell and being told you tried to recreate the scene in Say Anything, but you forgot all of your clothes except the trench coat (and, instead of a boombox you had a giant zucchini). While all of these seem unlikely fates, I can guarantee from personal experience that they’re not. Just keep it safe, kids—and, always remember to bring a towel, for whatever bodily fluids may need a-moppin’.
The Pacific Northwest is well-known for its constant, depressing, monotonous gloom. Anyone who has ever tried to incorporate paper or cardboard into their costume here knows it just... won’t...fly. Gandalf’s Glamdring looked great made of boxes and duct tape at first blush, but it’s a sad sight after 20 minutes in the rain. That’s why I advise thinking well in advance of the inevitable downpour, come Halloween night. You can certainly doll yourself up to be the sexiest clown, sexiest Al Franken or sexiest Ebola volunteer health worker around, but make sure you wrap yourself entirely in trash bags and duct tape, over top of your elaborate ensemble. No, you won’t be able to see your costume, but no one else can either, so when it comes time for the best costume contest, you can all whip out the scissors in anticipation together (and admire one another for the ten minutes it takes to announce the winners, while they close the bar).
There is not a single soul in our fair nation who doesn’t quietly jam handfuls of diabetic encouragement into their craw on the ween of hallows, but let’s all take a minute to remember the amazing propaganda of yesteryear, about the dangers of razors in apples, LSD on temporary tattoos and poison in your Snickers. Let us reflect—and, like all good fads, bring it back into style. You don’t need to abuse neighborhood cats or anything truly inhumane, but testing your drug lab creations on neighborhood kids is innocuous in comparison. Everyone’s night will be far livelier and E.R. nurses need to get paid somehow, right?
While it’s the perfect night to do it, I recommend not trying to recreationally call forth the Mind Flayer or whatever your evil of choice this night. I’ve tried it and you’ve heard the saying, "don’t meet your heroes," right? Well, I’m going to sound like a square, but while a night in the cemetery with a Ouija board is all well and good, a lifetime of demonic subservience is less cool than it might look. I spent all night giving a pedicure to an ancient nameless evil and my back is just so sore today.
Finally, if you are going to take part in an angry mob, carry a pitchfork or a torch—but not both, as it’s overly cumbersome and prevents effective pillaging. Trust me on this one.
All in all, I wish you a safe and Satanic All Hallows celebration, Dias De Los Muertos or excuse to chuck bible tracts at kids. Whatever your cup of tea, just remember that anything that’s fun can kill you and to exercise moderation in your evil. Hail Satan.
