Call Me the Chambermaid, Candy Lady, Anything You Like...

Of all the holidays to restore my faith in humanity, I would not have expected Halloween to be it.

Being from a small town, I had expected droves of children to show up at my door in their varied but wonderful costumes, greeted by the chorus of "trick or treat" every time I opened my door. After sitting at my house for a bit, looking outside occasionally to see if anyone was around, I decided that no one was coming. My first lesson on holidays in the city: Halloween is not the same as it is in small towns. People go to the malls for candy, not to people's houses.

So I grabbed my pot of candy and paraded out the door, determined to find people who wanted candy. At first my goal was to find children who were trick-or-treating, and give them the candy. But I realized quickly that I wasn't going to find many of them. I went down to NW Market St. and, with pot of candy on my head, walked around, hoping that people would want candy. Several people asked me what was in the pot, and it was these people that I tried to give candy to.
Most of these attempts ended in really bad pick-up lines, sexual innuendo, and me getting hit on.
I was a tad bit discouraged at this point.
But, determined to bring candy to Seattle's candiless, I marched back to the apartment and printed out a sign that looked something like this:

 

I first came across two teenagers dressed up and trick-or-treating. They were surprised and shocked that I was giving out candy, but I believe pleasantly so.

With hope restored, I marched down to uncharted and dangerous waters to begin my candy giving escapade.

Left and right people were smiling. When they read my sign and walked shyly by, they would smile and giggle, or openly laugh. When I asked if they wanted candy, most people accepted pleasantly. As if people's reactions were not encouragement enough, it was even more wonderful to see people that had seen me several times before.

"Okay, I've seen you walk by three times already. I just have to ask: what are you doing?"
"I'm giving out candy. Would you like some?" I said, lifting the pot down from my head.
They laugh merrily. "What made you want to do that?"
"Well, most of us don't trick-or-treat anymore; there has to be some way for us to get candy!"
Another hearty laugh as they pick some Smarties out of the pot.

If people were too afraid to ask, I would simply insist that they take some.

So many people were encouraging and sweet and happy. I am amazed that all the people who I thought might be too full of themselves to accept my offer showed themselves as real and personable humans.

Several people who saw me multiple times would encourage me every time I walked by with words like, "This is such an awesome thing, keep it up sweetheart!" or "I love what you're doing!". For anyone to step outside of their comfort zone, say something like that, and be inspired, is enough for me.

I went home; the people of NW Ballard St. had cleaned me out. Instead of going home with a bag full of candy, I returned empty handed and happier than I had expected myself to be.

The night was a total success.

There are so many individual stories to tell about Halloween night, that I can't even fit them all in here (for fear that I may bore you all to death).

Suffice to say, Happy Halloween!