Halloween was never a very eventful time of the year for me as a kid. When I was really young, yeah, it was cool to dress up as a Power Ranger, or whatever my favorite Pokémon was at the time. But it was never really more than a measly stroll through my neighborhood, collecting a couple pieces of candy from the same neighbors, year after year. However, as I graduated into middle and high school, the dynamic changed from a carefree night of candy grabs into an all-night event of pure debauchery, pranks, and most importantly, partying. Halloween was one of the biggest nights of the year in my hometown for kids who were far too young to be drinking—or even driving, for that matter—to put on a mask or a facade and do things their parents probably wouldn’t be so happy about.
“We took it upon ourselves to plan and execute the most epic Halloween party we could physically muster.”
I was never a very big part of that party, though, until my sophomore year of high school. I was hanging out with one of my newer—but at the time, very close—friends, whose name will be “Joey” for the sake of the story. Joey always had a disposition for partying and doing things against his parents’ will, and it just so happened that his family was going to be out of town on the weekend of Halloween. Joey, a few of our other friends, and I took it upon ourselves to plan and execute the most epic Halloween party we could physically muster.
I had never been the host of a real “high school party,” so getting to be Joey’s second-hand man in planning—setting up the house, figuring out how to get booze, etc.—was a pretty exciting experience, to say the least. By about 8pm, we had packed the house full of cheap beer, vodka I now wouldn’t even give to my worst enemy, decorations, and most importantly, a bumpin’ sound system. I couldn’t have been more excited to see the fruits of our labor.
I think that party lasted a full 25 minutes. Considering we lived in a quiet, boring suburb, it wasn’t very long before some concerned neighbor/parent/cranky-old-dickhead had noticed the onslaught of underage kids, blaring music, etc. and called the police. Just as we were really starting to enjoy ourselves, in true Halloween fashion, we got the shit scared out of us—not from a ghost, but from the fear of having to tell our parents what we did.
What transpired in the next few minutes is what I could only describe as a mass exodus, hundreds of already shit-housed teenagers trying to scramble out of the house they had just gotten comfortable in. My closest group of friends and I opted to take the high road—specifically jumping over a 10-foot-tall wooden fence and onto a slope full of mud, grass, thorns, and other really annoyingly painful shit. We made it home safe, all in all, but we were all pretty shaken by the situation.
I learned a pretty valuable lesson: Don’t bother trying to throw your own Halloween party. It’s a lot easier on your head and your ass to go enjoy someone else’s.