Halloween "Scary Story"
Halloween "Scary Story"
By Tara Giddings
The Castro is fantastically frightening on Halloween, at least for anyone afraid of huge crowds, scary costumes or public nudity. A man in a skeleton face mask grunts in reply to a question about why he would wear that costume, a loud noise to scare off the people who jokingly may ask such a question or try to talk to him at all.
A man with white face paint complete with detailed black markings making his face look like an elaborate skull mildly smiles in reply to such a question. He politely continues to reply looking distracted, by the colorful tutus passing by or a man holding a pizza box who knows.
“Is that the real you?” I ask realizing this is the only day of the year when a girl dressed up as a bunny would ask such a serious question. Not that he takes it seriously, “of course, it’s the real all of us.” As he smiles the makeup portrays a cheshire cat like face, or should I say a dead cheshire cat.
Turns out a man unafraid to dress up as a long dead corpse does have a deathly fear. “Sharks, I saw jaws as a kid and that shit fucked me up.” He doesn’t have a fear of people, perhaps because as he says “I know how all people are gunna end up, just like me.”
For someone who so fully embraces Halloween his reply to whether or not it is healthy to be frightened is unsurprising. “Yeah man! Fear makes you feel alive!” The satisfaction of such irony leads me to ask he if he's frightened anyone tonight. After jumping abruptly at a couple dressed as peanut butter and jelly he just laughs. Laughing along I ask “Should I be afraid of you?”. Lucky for me the dead are sometimes more kind than the living. I don’t need to be afraid as he gives me a hug before handing off into the dead of night, looking forward to the last future hours of the day.
By Tara Giddings
The Castro is fantastically frightening on Halloween, at least for anyone afraid of huge crowds, scary costumes or public nudity. A man in a skeleton face mask grunts in reply to a question about why he would wear that costume, a loud noise to scare off the people who jokingly may ask such a question or try to talk to him at all.
A man with white face paint complete with detailed black markings making his face look like an elaborate skull mildly smiles in reply to such a question. He politely continues to reply looking distracted, by the colorful tutus passing by or a man holding a pizza box who knows.
“Is that the real you?” I ask realizing this is the only day of the year when a girl dressed up as a bunny would ask such a serious question. Not that he takes it seriously, “of course, it’s the real all of us.” As he smiles the makeup portrays a cheshire cat like face, or should I say a dead cheshire cat.
Turns out a man unafraid to dress up as a long dead corpse does have a deathly fear. “Sharks, I saw jaws as a kid and that shit fucked me up.” He doesn’t have a fear of people, perhaps because as he says “I know how all people are gunna end up, just like me.”
For someone who so fully embraces Halloween his reply to whether or not it is healthy to be frightened is unsurprising. “Yeah man! Fear makes you feel alive!” The satisfaction of such irony leads me to ask he if he's frightened anyone tonight. After jumping abruptly at a couple dressed as peanut butter and jelly he just laughs. Laughing along I ask “Should I be afraid of you?”. Lucky for me the dead are sometimes more kind than the living. I don’t need to be afraid as he gives me a hug before handing off into the dead of night, looking forward to the last future hours of the day.
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