I took fists full of water in the face.

Saturday night nipped the air, perfect with a crisp autumn chills. Finally it’s fall. In celebration my family participated in our yearly Halloween tradition this Saturday, the Headless Horseman Haunted Hayride in Kingston, New York. We usually go closer to October 31st, but this was the only weekend my mother could attend. My Mother, with enthusiastic, childlike exuberance literally bounces through each frightful treat. Halloween is her favorite and her enjoyment is a thrill to watch.

This year I took a friend with me. I had hoped to make it grand group affair with newly acquainted friends and old friends scaring up Kingston together, picking pumpkins and apples all the way back to the city. But alas, scheduling did not permit. Perhaps later in the month, Upstate New York has many frightful options in October. As the “new victim,” I was certain my friend’s face would be scrutinized at every alarming turn for reactions.

A tractor pulled hay pile rolled up to our line and we were beckoned on by a misshaped crow character. I did not find the crow or what the crow had to say remotely scary. In fact it was difficult to hear the laborious hayride exposition about some boogeyman scarecrow delivered in failed stand up comedy. What dribbled out of the prosthetic beak was no match for my low grumblings: “shut up, shut up, and shut up stupid crow.”

The highlight of the ride was the terrifying man with the working chainsaw that came at me like I killed his puppy. Though there was no blade, the mechanism had fast moving parts and a distinct gasoline smell. I screamed. I look forward to the rest of the ride, the corn field maze and the two haunted houses with my mother's matched enthusiam. As we were nearing the end of our hay expedition we came upon a costumed young man and a rubber chicken. Unbeknownst to me the young man had filled the rubber chicken with what must have been a gallon of water. He smacked the chicken with a rubber mallet hurling said gallon of water directly into my face. I was drenched. My friend, Brother and a couple of now grumpy strangers were covered in water. It was cold. We were cold and angry. As the hay truck pulled away from this horrible young man I saw him smirking at his wet work. As a true New Yorker I flipped him off as we rolled into the distance.

It was an unmatched feat; it takes a lot for me to flip off a high school student in a goblin costume, but there I was cold, wet, with my middle finger fully extended.

The remainder of the evening was fun and without incident.

Tonight I see The Killers with Dana.

Yay!