Musings of Me

Halloween Haunts

With Halloween around the corner, one cannot fight the irresistible lure of the ‘Haunted House.’

After all, how can one not enjoy being scared witless (and denying it)?

In this spirit, myself and some fellow peeps rallied around my KIA (ironically, it was the only car that would fit all three of us, and they own Fords) and drove to “The Netherworld.” This haunted house was supposedly very good, along with being the easiest to find according to Mapquest.

I very nearly took several wrong turns anyway, but Lisa, with characteristic preparedness told me exactly which lane I should be in and when.

(For the record, Georgia roads are completely disorganized. Instead of having the turn lanes marked on the lane itself and on signs, the markings are faded hieroglyphs only on the pavement (if any). There was a heated argument debating whether this was because there was no snow to ever cover the roads, or whether it was because Georgia drivers do not heed normal driving regulations anyway.)

By the time we reached the parking lot, we had discussed in detail what we might expect. Lisa, who was in charge of planning the excursion, began with some general information. “This house has three different attractions, the first being the main event. The other two are 3D shows, and a themed maze based on Purgatory.” We thought about this. “How much will it cost to go to all three?” I asked. I am a bit cheap. “No idea. But I hope they accept debit cards.”

This led to another conversation about modern banking, and how since no one carries cash any more, it must be difficult to be a bum.

As we came into view of our destination, we noticed some very obvious indications that it was a house of horror. There was a huge spotlight of a Celtic Knot (I am doubtful of the appropriateness of that), and several hearses driving around the parking lot. In tried-and-true Michigan mentality, while appreciating the procession and the flags with skulls and crossbones on them, I couldn’t help but to joke, “Hey, if those hearses grab the last parking spots I will NOT be happy!” Parking is precious. I nearly ran over an evil-looking clown to get a spot, but I won it fair and square.

The clown later was being very ‘attentive’ to Lisa and Ashley as we waited in line. A demon with batwings also came up to grab Ashley’s arm. I was quick to tease “Hey, it is your ex!!” Not to be outdone, she retorted “yeah, why do I attract all the losers?” We continued to watch the demonic procession as we compared and contrasted haunted houses here from the ones in our native Michigan.

“This is so weird. We are on an access road and there are no corn fields in sight. Does anyone else think this is creepy?” Lisa had a good point. Instead of cornfields, we were going to tour an empty furniture warehouse. There was a nice waterbed in the display window. “Yeah,” confided Ashley. “If this line appears to be too long, we can just go loiter by the abandoned warehouse five blocks down. That could be really creepy.” We reflected on that for a moment.

“I know they have more money down here,” I commented, “but I miss the corn. There is something about knowing you can get lost and trip in a muddy cornfield where nobody will find you until morning that has an appeal.” There was a murmured consensus. At this point a tortured soul with cracked vertebrae was caressing Ashley’s arm. “Eew!! Go harass somebody else!” More exasperated than anything, she added “Why me?” and rolled her eyes.

“Because you are a petite blonde,” I replied. “And blondes have more fun.” We had to laugh at that. “Besides, I am 5’9 and a bit intimidating at times.” Especially if I smile. A wealth of information can be conveyed with one of my smiles. If you are a hot guy, you get treated the dazzling come-hither smile (just let me dream, k?). If you are a friend it is the casual-yet-very warm ‘you rock, great to see you!’ smile. If you piss me off, you will recognize the bared teeth for what they are: Impending Doom.

After giving what is best described as ‘evil Hagrid’ the bared teeth when he approached Lisa, we made it to the entrance. We had poneyed up enough money for the Main Event and a tour of Purgatory (called, appropriately, Oblivion), so we thought we’d be good for the night. For our brief tour of hell we were warned “Do not run, do not push, do not smoke. Do not touch the monsters and they won’t touch you.” The best part of this was that the speech was delivered by a giant ram/human hybrid, with a British accent. Blimey.

Because none of us are cowards, I was volunteered (this is what happens when you are shoved into the front) to lead the way, while Ashley generously offered to bring up the rear. Lisa was going to ‘keep us together’ by being in the middle.

For the record, isn’t it sad when you know somebody is going to jump out at you, you even see them and wave, but then you shriek anyway when they run at you with a chainsaw? There was a lot of running. I hit a few walls (this is where I swore between shrieks), but we made it out. There were HUGE ogres eating humans, torture chambers, ghosts, wigglies, you name it. There was even a spinning tunnel that really screwed up the sense of balance. In the end it was better than a cornfield, and there were even huge bruises to prove it (flesh and pride).

I never knew I could shriek the way I did. Go figure.

posted by Jill @ 3:03 PM