Hallowe'en has never been a particularly interesting event for me, other than as an excuse to convincingly re-create myself as someone else. (In Octobers past, I've shown up at work as Einstein, Dorothy, a lost alien, and Audrey Hepburn.)
While I've never stooped to handing out dental floss, I have been that neighbor who avoids trick-or-treaters by turning out all the lights and hiding in the back room - with a good book, of course.
Perhaps it's the sugar factor - I can say no to candy all day long. But carbs are a vastly different story. If people habitually handed out croissants and pain au chocolate and really good potato chips, I'd be the first one knocking at doors, pillowcases at the ready.
Conversely, The Best Husband Ever looooves candy, and anticipates Hallowe'en only for that reason. In the guise of planning, he buys sale candy early in October - and later buys more because the stash has mysteriously dwindled....
In TBHE's youth, Hallowe'en was all about strategy - he mapped out the most lucrative candy collection routes, then literally ran the whole time his parents allowed him out. This was not an event to foster cameraderie - unless you could keep up. Upon returning home, the sorting began - apples and homemade popcorn balls were off-loaded to the garbage, less desirable candy was designated for sibling trades. The remainder provided about three consecutive weeks of sugar-high bliss. Thankfully, time has coerced TBHE toward balance in his diet - this week, he actually bought apples, and even ate one for a snack - presumably as a palate cleanser after the last round of Whoppers pilfered from the candy bowl. (Did I say "pilfered"? Sorry, I really meant "tasted as a precaution in quality control". And he's still TBHE.)