Odd how I can dish it out, but I just can't take it. While I completely freak in creepy settings -- the artificial paranoia reaching staggering heights in things like hayrides, haunted houses, after-dark amusement parks or secluded forest paths -- I have been known to delight in being on the other side of the scream, reveling in creating some real terror in the hearts of men (and women...and kids...)
Here is one of my favorite memories of Halloweens past:
"Temping" at Six Flags' Fright Fest -- a good counterbalance to being a perfectly polite waitress all day -- and being bitterly disappointed to be an "evil clown" one night, assigned to sub-in for each of the characters in the Haunted House, allowing them a dinner break. Afterwards, it was deemed too difficult to switch the make up so I was instructed to try to scare folks exiting at the end. This was made nigh impossible by the fact that the last House attraction was a guy done up as Jason ala hockey mask, complete with a real chainsaw (sans chain). It's very hard to upstage a power tool, so I merely mocked people in mime to the delight of the crowd waiting for their friends and family to come out.
However, at one point Jason turned to me and wanted to take a break for dinner, too. "Do you want the chainsaw?" he asked me. I looked at it. "Yes," I said. "Yes, I do." Now, I'd never used a chainsaw in my life, but I was game to try. I heard a group coming down the dark hallway and I tried starting the thing. One try, nothing. Two tries, nothing. I heard the group muttering to themselves, "Oh, it must be Jason." "Yeah, big deal. Ooo - scary!" Determined, I gave the starter one good, last yank and got that puppy running. When the crowd turned the corner at the end of the exit, there I was: black and white clown make-up, red fluffy wig, bright jumpsuit & a whirring chainsaw in my hand. I raised the machinery over my head and let my tongue loll out, giving a manic scream...
I have never seen people run so fast in my life.
I picked out two of them and ran after in hot pursuit (hot because, well, I was in full makeup and two layers of clothes against the cold, now running with a heavy power tool in hand). I just kept screaming and so did they, crowds parting quickly and people shouting and pointing.
I finally let them go and slunk back with all apparent disappointment to my post at the Haunted House thinking that was, perhaps, the most thrilling fun I'd had in my life.
Now look at my quiet userpic. Who knew? ;-)
What lurks behind your everyday face? Do you like to scare or be scared?