Strategic trick-or-treating

I went trick or treating this year. My friend and I rushed home from volleyball, showered, straightened our hair, found the largest pillow cases we had, hid our costumes beneath sweatpants and fuzzy jackets and ventured out into what turned into an increasingly blustery evening.

We were followed by what was undoubtedly a pack of eighth graders who had consumed far more than the appropriate amount of candy for the night.

We started off breaking into sprints between houses; but after a few one hundred yard dashes, I dropped onto a neighbor’s front porch and, sitting on the ground, was barely able to muster another “trick or treat.”

The solution? As a 16-year-old trick-or-treater, well, I cheated. My friend and I mustered up just enough energy to shuffle back to her house, pile into my car and weave through the hordes of children on the street until we found a suitable parking spot positioned strategically between three streets.