2003-12-05 - 12:28 p.m.

On the internal soundtrack: The creepy music they play throughout "Terror Behind the Walls"

So, I never did write about Halloween, or about our trip to the Eastern State Penitentiary for "Terror Behind the Walls" (a haunted house thing). I'm going to write about this today.

As I recall, our Halloween actually ended up rather crappily. I don't like it when things end crappily. So I shall tell the story in reverse chronological order.

9:40pm or so

We are coming home from our walk and encounter some of our neighbors having a pizza party on the sidewalk. I stop to say hello but no one seems to acknowledge my presence at all. I ask the grape lady where her costume went, and she said, almost sarcastically, "Well, I took it off." So I just asked Poindexter at that point to take my picture with an Elvis who dropped by and then we left. We went home and wondered aloud at what we did to make everyone hate us.

The picture turned out OK:

9:30pm

The trickle of trick-or-treaters seems to have stopped, so we go out for a walk. I'm wearing my Scream costume and have some extra candy. There was a guy sitting on a bench, so I rushed up at him with my arms up, and he just looked up at me, expressionlessly. I asked him if he wanted some candy, and he said no. I felt like an idiot. Asshole. Where's his Halloween spirit?!

9:15pm

The drunk lady from last year shows up. I didn't write about her -- she showed up sometime after 10pm with her kid in a stroller looking half-asleep. It was very odd. This time her kid is on foot, in a Superman costume. She's had a few, again, I think. I have too much candy and tell the kid to take as much as he likes. He starts grabbing greedy fistfuls. Then he starts going after Poindexter, actually walking into the house and challenging him (might've even tried to take a swipe at him):

Meanwhile, his mother is telling me about how I'm so nice to give him all that candy and now she doesn't have to go to many more houses and her kid just got out of the hospital (?!) and did I have kids, no? Oh, I waited until I was 30 to have my kid, I was making a lot of money and I didn't want to settle down yet and... Finally Poindexter says, "I think it's time to go home", loudly, to the kid, and somehow we get her out the door, talking all the while. Then she went across the street to talk to the neighbor for 15 minutes too.

8:30pm

We got a pretty good bunch of trick or treaters. Highlights included:

Aztec Sun God (I thought it was Queen Amidala)
gothic princess
Allen Iverson
Uncle Sam

Other highlights, in reverse order:

Three women show up with one kid, dressed as a princess. None of them bats an eye when I throw open the door and jump in my Scream costume. One of the women says with a smile, "We're not afraid of girl monsters." I asked how they knew I was a girl, and they pointed to my "feminine feet". Next year I am wearing P's boots. Then they caught sight of P, whom they said was "a little bit more masculine". Can't faze these tough broads.

They mentioned that down the street there was a pumpkin with candy in it and a sign that said "Take two". There were none left. Obviously these kids could have benefited by what happened to Visgoth's friend Obie.

The little girl down the street showed up, dressed as Sleeping Beauty. She looked ADORABLE. She was fascinated with Poindexter in his mask, and seemed interested in making sure other kids got the full experience -- "Put your mask on when you go back inside," she told me.

Seven or eight boys showed up, all around age 10, who were the most polite young men I have ever met. I got a chorus of thank yous, some small talk, and "Have a nice Halloween". I was floored. I wish I could've met their parents to thank them.

A short kid in a George Bush mask showed up. "It's the President!" I told Poindexter.

Our catty-corner neighbor (a mom) showed up as a bunch of grapes: a purple sweatsuit, covered with purple balloons. Too cool. Her son was dressed as an (American) Indian. I was a little tonguetied as to what to say, what with all the political correctness these days. Was he an Indian or a Native American? I wonder.

The beginning

And saving the first and best for last, at 6:15 we got our first trick-or-treaters. It was the girl who we chortled over all evening:

"What happened to YOU?!" I said. "I was in a car accident," she said nonchalantly. When she saw Poindexter, she nodded her head with approval and said, "Coooooool." She was just unflappable.

After she left, we debated for a while whether it was her idea or her dad's. We decided it didn't matter whose idea it was -- clearly she liked it enough to make it her costume. I don't think I've ever met a girl that young who was so laid-back and had such a black sense of humor. I hope she comes by next year.

The Monday before Halloween, I think it was, we went to the Penitentiary. I was expecting this to be cheesy, and I suppose it was, but it was a lot more fun than I imagined it would be. You can get an idea what was in it by clicking on the labels on this map.

The best part, hands down, were the actors. They were used sparingly. There were also a lot of mannequins. This resulted in visitors never knowing whether that still figure was alive or not. It made me very jumpy. In some places they were mixed in with mannequins, so I never really knew what was real and what wasn't. I'd scrutinize them, decide that they were all fake, and then at the last second one of them would jump out at me and make me scream.

They had a jail cell set up with various craftsy projects scattered about, and what I assumed was a blond mannequin sitting in the middle -- Martha Stewart. I was walking up to the cell, looking at the craftsy projects, and suddenly the blond mannequin moved and spoke, evoking a startled shriek from me (and more amused laughter from Poindexter).

I did a lot of screaming. And I'd back up, cover my eyes, and cower to try to get away from them, and they'd FOLLOW me, staring me down in a demonic/zombified way. They did this everywhere. "They love you," said Poindexter.

The thing is, to get past them, you have to go forward. And if you go forward, you get closer to them, which I cannot bring myself to do even though I know intellectually they will back up. And they are really, really creepy, looking like deranged undead people, so I could not bring myself to go forward unless Poindexter was pushing me.

One time some hunchbacked thing followed me all the way across the round room in the middle (where "Twelve Monkeys" was filmed). There was a creepy hospital section with frightening rusted scalpels and such, and a zombie nurse with a strong Philly accent and choppy speech who followed me around screaming, "Where's the doctor?! Have you seen the doctor?! Stay away from my doctor!" Poindexter told her, "Yeah, she's seen him," and the nurse shrieked, "YOUR BOYFRIEND GAVE YOU UP." (He told me all this after the fact -- I was too busy cowering and screaming.)

Another time, I ran through a small room to get away from some creature and went through a doorway. They tend to stop at doorways and go back to scare other people. Then I turned to my left, feeling relieved, to say something to Poindexter. Except it wasn't Poindexter. It was the creature. More screaming ensued. My husband was still a good 10-15 feet behind me, laughing all the while.

When we left, I couldn't stop smiling for five minutes. It was awesome. Highly recommended. :)

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