{ C o l i b r i – – ☂

"A guilty conscience needs to confess. A work of art is a confession." Albert Camus

Operation Fright Night Part 4

I don’t know if you all remember, but I mentioned before that, with all this Halloween fun-time, my job is quite a risky one. Dangerous things happen every day, people get hurt, sent to the ER, ect. I’ve learned enough from it that I’ve grown a lot. I’ve become a stronger person,  more conscious of the things happening around me. I don’t care much about my safety. But it’s the others, the ones who aren’t used to this kind of danger, who I look out for, no matter how much I don’t know them.

I never expected so many things to happen to me in a single night!

I was set in this very tight hallway, leading to an air-structured corridor where people squeeze in through to get out. They call it The Vagina, or The Rebirth. Its original name is Claustrophobia. I want to make sure nothing bad happens, so I lead the uncomfortable to another, safer way out, trying to be as nice as possible in character. I do have a costume, but I only had half of it that time since traffic made me arrive late. The makeup ladies were nice enough to let me in the prop room anyway: my manager, Dave, got stuck in the same traffic as me.

The night went on regularly, with a few incidents of sobbing, hysterical children who “can’t make it much longer”. In these situations, I get out of character, make them feel better with “it’s going to be alright”, “the exit is right there”, “don’t worry, honey, you’ll be just fine”. It’s a little difficult to convince them when, even though my hair is out of my face, I still have a great blotch of crimson corn starch on my cheek. The parents are comprehensive, thank me, and huddle their children out. Of course, I only allow that kind of luxury to children under 10 years old. The others? They have to suffer through it. No sympathy for them! Unless of course, they beg.

I met a couple of wild, drunk teenagers. A boy tried to lead his drunk girlfriend out. I respected that of him, didn’t bust. Another boy was carrying one of our props; a piece of leg from a mannequin. I found the prop familiar and asked him to leave it with me, when he answered that he thought it was some kind of gift. I had the leg with me for the rest of the night. But something else distracted me from caring about it.

At one point during the evening, a man, around his 30s who was going through the house with his girlfriend, touch me. Not just poking for fun. He groped. At first, I didn’t think much about it. There was so much going on, I barely remembered. Still, I could feel the imprint of his fingers touching my chest. The most uncomfortable feeling in the world.

I got a tiny break. There weren’t many people there, so I took advantage and remembered that Dave had told us earlier that he’d found 25$ in The Field of Screams. Just then, I found 15$ on the floor in my little tight area in the dark. So, the groping payed off. I think that’s why I forgot. It was the tips. c:

Later, a few security guys were passing through. They were sandwhiching a creepy tall, skinny blond man, who gave me the death stare.  A criminal, I later learned.

At the end of the evening, rain was pouring. We were all gathered in the prop room, the house’s attic. Dave explained to us that if we didn’t feel safe, we were free to leave. He didn’t emphasize much about the loose criminal, but assured us that we don’t have to work in these circumstances. I told him about my harassment, and added this to the incidents reports he had to fill out to send the next day.

In the end though,

I did get 15$. C:


Filed under: Uncategorized, , , , , , ,

One Response

  1. Penny says:

    U work at a HAUNTED HOUSE?! AWESOME!!!!
    I went in one in New Orleans last Halloween that had a “satan’s church”, and the characters could chase you with realistic chainsaws and stuff-they even dumped fake blood on a girl next to me! I’m STILL scared shitless!!!!! But- LOVED it!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: