New York Story – Part I

NYC in the Fall. Doesn’t that have a magical ring? I thought so too, so I called my cousins and we arranged a trip.

My cousins are all native New Yorkers, but not a single one of them has ever played tourist in their own city. Why is that? I live just outside Washington, DC and I’ve covered almost every square inch of it over the years. Then again, I could be a professional tourist, so maybe I shouldn’t be counted in this survey…

Anyway, back to the New York City in the Fall trip planning details:

Friday Night:
My cousin’s kids could not wait for their cousin Sharondarella to arrive so they could take me to the local fire station, which was hosting their annual Haunted House fundraiser. I agreed to go, but when we arrived, two things changed my mind:

1. It cost $10 to go in (I think I may have already mentioned somewhere in my posting that I am cheap, but in case not, I am incredibly cheap)

2. There was a man dressed up with a mask on like a character from Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

I am not afraid of horror movies, in fact, I actually like some of them. However, slasher/gore films are not lumped in with the ones I like. Texas Chainsaw Massacre was actually very stupid, and it wouldn’t bother except for an unfortunate Halloween experience that traumatized me for life. Years ago my brother and I went Trick or Treating with a group of friends. We went to a house that was set back from the street, surrounded by trees with a circular dirt drive that wound back into the darkness; it was always dark and hard to see through all of the overgrown trees. The house itself was quite imposing, large and looming menacingly through the trees. The leaves had fallen off the trees, making a shuffling crackling that sounded like small animal bones crunching under our feet as we walked. The house was almost completely dark, with just a single candle sputtering on the front porch.

I had suggested we go to the next house, but my brother and friends were determined to go to every house, thereby maximizing the candy take. By the time we got close to the house we were all feeling a little uneasy, but being kids, we all pretended bravado none of us felt. One of the boys was in the lead when suddenly a tall man with stringy hair and a bushy beard jumped out from behind a tree. He yelled and threw his hands up, showing us the axe he was holding, swinging it over his head. We all screamed and started running away from him, down the other side of the circular drive. As we rounded the corner, man with axe hot on our heels, we saw another man hanging from a tree where the psycho must have hung him. To say that we almost wet our pants is an understatement. Just when we thought we had escaped ANOTHER man started chasing us, this one with a chain saw screaming at us.

Years later I can look back on this and realize that the guy who lived in this house was of a “frat boy” mentality as were his friends; they obviously thought this out beforehand, staged their scenes and then proceeded to scare every child for miles around. Their plan was successful, too, because for years afterwards they were not bothered by girl scouts knocking on their door selling cookies, or paperboy’s delivering their newspaper, nor did they have to buy candy for Halloween. I, like many others in the neighborhood, never felt comfortable about Halloween again, and to this day do not like people who jump out at me, especially when they are wearing a mask of any sort.

So, back to the New York fire house:

I refused to go in. My cousin’s kids begged me, but heartlessly I told them no. Their parents were going with them, I was sure that would be good enough (and it was, as it turned out)

I stood off to the side, waiting for them to come out, and watching as the Texas Chainsaw masked fireman snuck around scaring the bejesus out of some kids standing around unaware. Even worse was when the black draped gauze lifted at the doors to the firehouse and several figures dressed ominously in black emerged, and sneaked up on several people who were laughing at others being scared by Chainsaw mask guy. I finally putting my back up against a telephone pole so that no one could approach me from behind without my knowledge because if any of them tried to surprise me I’d probably start swinging and screaming, which might prove embarrassing to me. ;D

I watched in amusement as couples, children and various cocky teens came tumbling out of the black draped firehouse, screaming, as a clown in a black cloak chased them with a chain saw. Yes it was a real chainsaw, although it didn’t have any chains on it. Still, the noise that was horrifying enough.

I decided to take my $10 and spend it on raffle tickets (36” Flat Screen Sony Wega) for my cousin. Just as I was leaning over to pick up my tickets, I felt someone behind me. I jumped slightly as I turned, but it was just a fireman who had a mask with an extra head growing out of his hair. Not too scary. I was relieved, but only for a second, because just then my cousins came tumbling out of the fire house with 3 of the masked people chasing them, one with the chain saw, another with a knife and the third with a scary look on his face. I would have laughed, but it just wasn’t funny enough.

I grabbed them up and hustled them off to the car before the kids could start clamoring to go back in. Too late. We didn’t even make it to the car before they started in. I must have heard “you should have gone, it was great!” at least ten times, but I remained adamant that I hadn’t missed anything, and was glad they had fun.

My cousin’s son convinced his father to take him and a friend back to the firehouse on Saturday night. The son of my cousin is 10, but he likes to pretend he’s all grown up. However, he reverted back to childhood as he was chased, screaming and borderline hysterical, by 4 robed/masked men on Saturday night. I wanted to say “I told you so” but hey, I’m not that kind of person. Heee-heee!

Check back tomorrow for New York Stories - Part II