Halloween is just about here. These days, everyone calmly goes about their business, parents chaperone their kids until they’re old enough to drive, and the wildest thing you see is some parents sneaking a couple of pumpkin beers in the ol’ Red Wagon.
That is not how Le Cap remembers Halloween.
Halloween started a couple of days before. You had to make sure you had your costume ready. Black sweatpants, black long sleeve shirt, and a black ski mask. Bank robber…done.
Now you’d get the darkest pillowcase you could. Had to make sure it’s one in the back of the linen closet, because you don’t want one your mom will be looking for. You actually needed to grab two of them. One for the occasional candy stop, and the other for your supplies: eggs and shaving cream mainly- occasionally some TP, but it was too bulky and didn’t pack a good punch.
As I’m writing this, I’m wondering. Do kids even egg shit anymore? Back in West MedfidTM houses would get egged, like in most other regular towns. But we’d kick it up a notch in our neighborhood…and egg each other. The real hardcore assholes would hard boil them. One year, me and Ollie were walking by Playstead Park. Out of nowhere, we got nailed with about a half dozen hard boiled fastballs, and before we knew what hit us we were getting bundled by 4 hooligans in black masks, and they were spraying shaving cream down our shirts. It was, and remains, my single greatest Halloween memory.
We got up, got our shit together, then went and found some younger kids and paid it forward. Right now, there’s a guy somewhere telling the story of when he got a fistful of egg cracked right over his head, and how it helped make him the #regularguy he is now. You’re welcome, buddy.
That happens now, there are instantly people screaming “bully”, there are police reports, civil cases, some kid with half a western omelet in his hair talking to Bob Ward on the 10 oclock news….
Back then, it was great. Early 90’s West Medfid was the Wild West of Halloween debauchery. Everyone wore masks and so you had no idea who the hell was who. I mean, you knew, but it was the unwritten rule that nothing from that night carried over to the next day. I 100% still know at who at least 3 of the people who nailed me were, but I’ll take it to my grave.
That’s how Halloween used to be done.
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