Nina In New York: It's The Most Scariest Time Of The Year

A lighthearted look at news, events, culture and everyday life in New York. The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.
______________

By Nina Pajak

Here we are, once more, midway through October. Fall is in full, glorious swing. The leaves are beginning to change, the air is crisp and smells faintly of cozy fireplaces ablaze. Football football yadda yadda. We've traded our rosés for reds, most importantly. And of course, All Hallow's Eve is nigh.

Sure, there's all the usual blood and gore and ghoulish stuff that makes Halloween a "scary" night. But on a much more mundane level, this is truly the most terrifying holiday. Forget the masks and the haunted houses, we don't even need them. This stuff is real.

First of all, there's the candy. Oh, lord, the candy. How can there be so much candy in the world, let alone in my tiny corner of it? It's piled miles high, aisles deep. Everywhere I go. I can't run an errand to the dry cleaner without being forced to confront my inner demons and engage in an epic, soul-shredding battle over a bag of fun sized Snickers. These demons, they are vicious. They're ugly and unrelenting, and they puff out their expansive, rippling bellies and bare their sugar-corroded teeth and demand that I buy it. Buy it. Just buy it. Just a little. Just a bite. Then another bite. They're BITE SIZED, after all. Do it. Do it. Eat it all. You don't need laundry detergent, you need caramel and peanuts and OH MY GOD ARE THOSE TAKE 5 BARS? I must flee. Everyone just shut up!

Thank goodness my toddler doesn't yet recognize packaged candy for what it is. That's one demon I don't think I could defeat. She does, on the other hand, seem to be keenly tuned in to all displays of Halloween paraphernalia. "Halloween stuff," is what she terms it, and it simultaneously fascinates and scares the daylights out of her. So every store display or decorated house we pass inevitably results in horrified shrieking and hysterical tears, because you'd cry too if you were three feet tall and saw a massive, inflatable spider gyrating on someone's lawn. Thanks for that, neighbor. I need another tantrum like I need another Take 5 bar. Oh, no . . .

Then there are the incessant commercials on television for the sundry horror movies on offer this year. They are plentiful and nondescript, and each one makes me think twice before getting up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I have made the conscious decision NOT to frighten myself as a means of entertainment. Why must I suffer from the supposed safety of my own home? I am an unwilling viewer. I didn't sign up for this garbage. Changing the channel doesn't even help, unless I change it to PBS. How can I sleep at night now that I know pyromaniac ghosts are hiding everywhere and my house was probably built over an old graveyard and someone may have been murdered here and that person became a vampire stalker hellbent on destroying any who dares to take his place in his home? Hm? Get out, foul spirit, and bring me my feel-good Christmas movie trailers.

Oh, it's a tumultuous time, alright. I just have to close my eyes and dream of Thanksgiving, and then open them really fast just in case a zombie poltergeist just materialized in front of me holding a bag of Twix.

Nina Pajak is a writer living with her husband, daughter and dog in Queens. Connect with Nina on Twitter!