Stranger than Fiction

Next Halloween will be better

Halloween is my favorite holiday because I get to wear bizarre outfits and eat a lot of candy. And for you who say, "Heidi, how does that make it different from any other day for you?" I reply, "I hope a disgruntled spirit haunts your rude butt." This Halloween was pretty disappointing. My ex-friend James initially invited me to a Saturday-night party in his neighborhood. Then he dumped me on short notice when his boyfriend surprised him with a front-row seat for Barry Manilow. I ended up having to work anyway, but hey, I can't be friends with someone who'd pick Mr. I Write The Songs over me.

I was determined to make up for the disappointment by doing something festive Sunday -- handing out candy to neighborhood trick-or-treaters. I know there are kids in this apartment complex because their parents allow them to terrorize the swimming pool on the weekends. For one festive day, I was willing to let bygones be bygones and help them rot their teeth out.

Here's how the evening unfolded: 5:28 p.m. -- The sun sets. I don my sad, thrown-together costume of an Asian-style robe, black capri pants and flip-flops. Yes, I am a fat, white geisha girl.

5:45 p.m. -- I place my $2.99 plastic, battery-operated jack-o-lantern on the balcony. Meanwhile, my next door neighbor has orange icicle lights, a giant Frankenstein, a witch on a broomstick crashed into the window and a plastic goose in a wizard's cape. It's like Dracula exploded over there. I decided to add some SPOOOOOOKY tea lights to my display.

6:03 p.m. -- The tea lights are out. Is this some supernatural occurrence now that the wall between the living and dead has been lowered? No, it is because the discount tea lights won't stay lit in a breeze harder than what comes from an air conditioning vent.

6:05 p.m. -- Someone is coming around the corner! Is it my long-awaited little ghosts and goblins? No. It is an elderly woman walking her dog.

6:17 p.m. -- I consider draping a sheet over my hanging plant to simulate a ghost. Oh, what's the use.

6:28 p.m. -- I abandon my post on the balcony and turn on the TV. More political ads. Now that's REALLY scary. Thank heaven they'll be off the air as of Wednesday.

6:42 p.m. -- A commercial claims Hall & Oates are "the most successful duo of the rock era." Maybe they should have used a few more qualifiers: "who aren't related, have two different hair colors and none of the same initials." 7:14 p.m. -- I eat my first "fun size" Mounds. It is less fun than expected, but still pretty good. I have another.

7:16 p.m. -- I have my third Mounds. Then a fourth.

7:35 p.m. -- I take my pants off. I'm now wearing what I do every night, but I place the pants nearby in case the kids come knocking.

8:30 p.m. -- I abandon all notion of children coming to my door. The candy is mine now.

1:44 a.m. -- I end the night watching "I Still Know What You Did Last Summer," wondering why the heroine doesn't just BUY A GUN! GEEZ! Halloween was officially a bust, but there's always next year.

Heidi Hall is former managing editor of the Southeast Missourian who now lives in St. Petersburg, Fla.