Part Two of I like Halloween, Really. Well, mostly. OK, only parts.
In the 7th grade, when I thought I was an actress, the drama kids put on a haunted house for the school. Really, it was a haunted stage. We loved the chance to dress up and practice our stage makeup. We’d just discovered spirit gum and the fun things you can do with makeup and putty: open wounds and gashes, a third eye, etc. I got to be a witch, complete with Lee Press-on Nails that I’d painted dark red. Do you remember Lee Press-on Nails? They were huge and very long, and never actually stayed pressed-on. I and my fellow witches did our revolting makeup, one or two may have even used a fake nose. I didn’t use a fake nose because even then I didn’t want to look like Nicole Kidman in The Hours (I am prescient.)
Our haunted house was the generic kind. I’m sure it was completely terrifying since it was located two steps from the cafetorium. Half the school had gone through when the administrators took their turn. No one told us that part of the contract between a haunted house participant and the haunted house provider is that the human providers do not ever touch the participant. That’s why when the vice principal went through I clawed his face.
Don’t worry, they were Lee Press-on Nails, half of them came off on contact.
I still remember the look of horror on his face. I’ve lived most of my life thinking it was simply abject horror, but now I think it might just be, “What does that girl think she’s DOING?” Well, if losing half your manicure is what it takes to get the scare across, I’ll do it (I’m so method.)
I began to not feel very well. I was stuck (downstage right) in the haunted house and each successive wave of teenagers was exhausting. Then I felt it. Bubble-bubble toil and trouble! My stomach began heaving. I ran for the exit, hoping beyond hope that I’d reach the small bathroom off stage. My knees buckled in front of the toilet and I began to empty the contents of my stomach, wiping off the makeup from my face as I tried to clean my cheeks. I can still smell the makeup mingling with the heaves.
Are you grossed out?
Me too.That’s why Halloween is dicey to me: so many people wear that makeup; I can smell it and instantly want to refund my meal. I went to my parent’s neighborhood Halloween party last week. They served chili, good homemade chili. The very thought of eating it while I could smell the makeup was revolting. Everything smelled disgusting; although I’m sure it was absolutely delicious. The very next day El Guille was refunding onto my carpet. SEE?
Halloween has a unique smell. It smells of plastic (like Hot Topic) and bad stage makeup. Someone get me a baggie.