The Grinch of Halloween

I don't really like Halloween.

There, I said it. It's just not my thing.

When you say you don't like Halloween, people look at you as if you just said, "I hate kittens," or "My hobby is exposing myself to young children," which really is unfair.

When I was a kid, my parents bribed me out of participating in Halloween. They always go to church on Halloween because they are God-fearing Roman Catholics, and it's the vigil for All Saint's Day, a holy day of obligation. So when I was 7, they made me a deal. If I didn't go out trick-or-treating, I would get any toy I wanted. Being a savvy consumer from a very young age, I knew a good deal when I saw one, and I agreed to it. So every year we went to 5:30 mass and then to the toy store. One year I got a pound puppy.

Luckily the driveway to 23 Broad Street is six and a half miles long and there's no light at the end, so I kind of accidentally got to live in a trick-or-treater-proof apartment without even realizing it when I moved in.

I mean, I am scared to go down the driveway, and I already know what's at the end. Uh, which actually is a little bit scary if you consider my colorful neighbor Paul, who wears overalls without a shirt underneath, is a dead ringer for Shrek, and owns three shotguns, but I digress.

My point is that the little candy-beggars are too scared to come knock on the door. So I don't have to participate in supporting their sugar highs.

Most of the time, the little bastards are too lazy even to say "trick-or treat" anyway! When I have given candy out in the past, I don't give any to the ones who don't say it. One year a yellow power ranger thought he was entitled to his fun-sized milky ways even though he refused to say it. Needless to say, I squashed his attitude right at the door when I gave each of his trick-or-treat-saying becostumed companions candy and gave him nothing but a life lesson.

Hey, I don't make the rules. I just enforce them.

Quite possibly the most friendly, pleasant, and likeable girl in the world works at my gym. Her favorite holiday is Halloween and she has practically been exploding with excitement that it was rapidly approaching. She looked absolutely gutted when I told her I'm not a Halloween person. She gasped and put her hand over her heart. I didn't even consider mentioning that I'm not really a fan of holidays in general and that I think Christmas is "just OK."

Anyhow, another woman working out with us mentioned she doesn't like halloween, either, and I thought I finally had an ally in this. Turns out the poor thing had a harrowing experience as an 8-year-old when some older trick-or-treaters stuck a stick in her back like a gun and robbed her of her candy-filled pillowcase.

I admit she has a much better reason not to like Halloween than I do.

But I still stand up for my right not to like Halloween, regardless of the fact that I wasn't fake-mugged for my candy as a child.

And even though my parents stopped proffering toys on October 31 years ago, I still keep the tradition going strong. Tonight I will head straight to Bloomingdale's after work, and I will definitely leave with a treat.

I don't even like mini Snickers bars: pilarrrgh@gmail.com