Sun Day editor by day, just about anyone you can imagine at night

Sometimes I walk into a scene from “Lord of the Rings” following a big battle. Swords, battle axes, bows and arrows are strewn across the floor, and loose pieces of armor make me question exactly what happened while I was away.

Other times, I’m in a John Hughes movie, surrounded by teenagers, who, like me at their age, have nothing better to do with their free time then goof off with friends and try to make their own fun.

Every time I come in, however, I’m surrounded by Hollywood stars. Frankenstein growls just a few feet from the Wicked Witch of the West, who still swears she’ll get Dorothy and her little dog too. Marilyn Monroe hides off to the side, and Disney characters can be found everywhere.

“Welcome to the worst hell of all: reality,” says the 6-foot Hellraiser figure one out of every five times I pass him by.

At this point, I could follow that quote and introduce this column’s thesis simultaneously by saying, “Yes, working in a Halloween store has been my reality in the past few months, and it has been the worst hell imaginable.”

But I won’t do that for two reasons. First ¬¬– as a writer, it just seems too obvious and easy to me. Second – it’s not true.

I began working nights and weekends at a Halloween store (which shall remain nameless as to avoid me getting in any trouble) in late August, and it has been quite an experience. I took it on to provide additional income to pay off my student loans. While I’m on the topic, paying back student loans may actually be the “worst hell of all.”

This job has certainly helped on that end, but I’ve also gotten a lot more than I bargained for out of it. For one, it’s marked my return to retail. My previous jobs being this paper, my college paper, and a debt collection agency (a job and experience which I now realize is begging for a column of its own), I haven’t worked retail or food since my senior year of high school, when I worked at Target.

There is just something about managing inventory, crash courses in cash register operation, and cheesy acronyms about goals or customer service that I love.

Before this job, I never realized how much Halloween means to some people. We get plenty of dedicated haunted housekeepers looking for the latest ghouls to pop out and scare the kids, but then there are those who take it one step beyond. One man told me about all the props he makes and how he has high school girls dress up as “graveyard fairies” to scare the kids.

“Oh, you mean they are at your house for the trick or treaters?” I asked, not knowing exactly what he meant.

“No,” he said.

“Then do you run a haunted house, and they’re there to scare people?”

“No.”

I soon realized I didn’t want to know who these “graveyard fairies” were nor what they were for. At that time, one of my coworkers came to let me know she had started her shift and that I could take lunch.

“You know, you could be perfect as one of my graveyard fairies,” the man said to my coworker.

Thankfully, she returned to work later that week, so I know she’s okay.

I’ve become desensitized to all things horror. I’ve memorized where all the jumping spiders/ghosts/zombies are and what they all say. I’ve perfected my timing and skill in inconspicuously setting them off to the hear shrieks of delightful terror of unsuspecting kids.

Well, perhaps I haven’t attained as strong a tolerance to gore as I claim. A friend of mine who works for a funeral home and one of my coworkers studying mortuary science have both told me tales of picking up corpses, preparing them for funerals, and other detailed explanations of post-mortem primping and presentation. Sometimes that makes eating lunch during my breaks difficult.

I’m amazed at just how many beloved childhood characters can be made into risqué women’s costumes. From Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to Care Bears and the Mario Brothers, I wonder what’s next ¬– sexy Raggedy Ann? Will they stop at nothing?

My time at the store is almost up, and though my Sun Day boss Chris has made jokes about me working at the store, I’ve made good progress on my loans and have had a great time along the way. I’ve given piggyback rides to zombie babies, dressed up as Buzz Lightyear for half a shift, and helped several people bring their costume ideas to life.

And one final thought: Chris has yet to visit me at the store. I think he is secretly afraid of our robotic displays.

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