Why I hate Halloween

I hate Halloween. There, I said it. Call me the Halloween Hater, the Scrooge of Screams, the Grinch of the Gruesome Holiday. I think it is the most evil of holidays, and I am not referring to Halloween’s origins as a festival to ward off evil spirits. There is a special dread that rises deep in the core of my being right before Halloween every year, where I know I will be invited to parties, and have to come up with cheap excuses to explain why I can’t go.

I hate Halloween. There, I said it. Call me the Halloween Hater, the Scrooge of Screams, the Grinch of the Gruesome Holiday. I think it is the most evil of holidays, and I am not referring to Halloween’s origins as a festival to ward off evil spirits. There is a special dread that rises deep in the core of my being right before Halloween every year, where I know I will be invited to parties, and have to come up with cheap excuses to explain why I can’t go. The short but real excuse is I happen to despise dressing up in a disguise, always have. The long excuse involves a homemade clown costume, a bad Mafioso accent and plain simple logic.
When I was younger, things were only marginally better. While in kindergarten, my mom unwittingly fueled my fear of clowns by making a clown costume for me to wear for Halloween. I have yet to recover from this, and I suspect it will take thousands of dollars of lying on a couch with a “therapist” to get over it. But there was a clear upside: if you went along with this torturous process, you got candy. Lots of sweet, delicious candy. I like to call that just returns.
The problem is, when you get over a certain age, the free candy aspect suddenly vanishes. As a result, you are left with an obligation to get dressed up, and the only thing to show for it is a horrible hangover the next day. The pain vs. pleasure ratio is all out of whack. At Christmas, for example, if the gift-giving aspect disappeared, all you would be left with is the harrowing prospect of spending time with relatives you wish you didn’t have. How much do you bet Christmas would be cancelled?
Add to that how fake Halloween has become. As in, people get dressed up to go to parties, usually wearing the same tired old costumes (vampire teeth, anyone?), only to take them off upon arriving at the party. Last year, I bit the bullet and went to my first Halloween party in years. Along with some friends, we got dressed up as Mafiosos. Ok, so it wasn’t the most original costume, but we decided to stay in character all night, exaggerated accents and all. Yet, lo and behold, we were the only ones to take our costumes seriously. In fact, we apparently offended a couple of Halloween party veterans by going overboard, and taking the costumes too seriously. I reply that this is how it should be done, if done at all. If Halloween parties are to involve people wearing lame-ass costumes, and acting like it’s another regular party, there shouldn’t be Halloween parties at all.
Some people say that Halloween is great because it’s an excuse for freaks and weirdos to come out and act like themselves. Finally, something that I can agree with! Only I would submit that they should all wear costumes 365 days a year, so I can spot them from afar and avoid them (a trend I’m glad the Goths started).
People also say Halloween’s the perfect occasion to party with your friends. I’m afraid these are the words of amateur partiers: I, for one, don’t need a sorry excuse like Halloween to get drunk, thank you very much.
This year, I won’t be going to a Halloween party:
I’ll be at home with a 40 of beer, stuffing my face full of candy.

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