October 12, 2001

This Halloween I'm giving out the worst candy on the block! Worse than peanut butter kisses (I actually like peanut butter kisses, but everyone knows they blow compared to real candy); worse than candy corn; worse than peppermints; worse than those heartbreaking baggies of popcorn recently-widowered old men sometimes make in a fit of nostalgia or festivity; worse than... what else sucks? I don't like the Wonka candy, but I know I'm completely alone on that one.

Usually I give out good stuff, lots of little candy bars, whole packs of gum. But this year is different. My fat ass simply cannot handle the usual half-bag of miniatures and half-bag of mini Nestle Crunch bars, and there's never enough trick-or-treaters to keep my greedy paws out of the candy bowl.

Besides, when I give out good candy, I always get all bent out of shape about those lame kids who wear half-assed costumes, or no costumes at all. Or even worse, kids that are old enough to tower over me, kids I want to lecture about how ashamed they should be of themselves, but that I don't, out of fear of Halloween reprisal. It is trick-or-treat, after all.

But if I'm handing out shitty candy, what do I care? They can have a whole handful of rock-hard taffy and gritty, bitter coffee drops--it's no skin off my nose! I've got a giant bowl of crappy candy culled from an ill-conceived purchase of clearance Christmas goodie towers. I even took all the taffy out of the bag today so it would get really hard and dried out by Halloween. Hurrah! If you're generous (and quick) forking over even shit candy, the kids will never notice who gave it to them. The key is to hold the bowl up high and briskly stuff a big handful deep into their sack while making lots of distracting oohs and aahs over their disappointing getups.

I also have a small stockpile of really good candy, those high-end novelty treats like little plastic bug jars, and an interesting assortment of good full-sized sour candies and Wonka candies. Those I'll give as special rewards to the kids with thoughtful costumes.

My fantasy is that word would get around the neighborhood that my house was giving out the good candy & that all the overgrown costumeless fuckers would come sniffing around. But instead of a big box of Sour Tart'N'Tinys, they'll get some brittle, sucky-ass peppermint taffy that will pull out all their stinkin' fillings! Ha! Unfortunately, parents are so paranoid these days that most kids trick or treat at their schools or the mall; there's never enough traffic, and certainly not enough trick-or-treater interaction, to get a really good buzz going.

If it works out well (that is, if I get sufficient satisfaction and avoid my usual outrage), I'll buy the crappiest candy I can find on 90% off clearance and save it, improperly stored, until next year.

09.27.01