For the first Saturday since April, I’m not chained to a stainless steel kitchen counter preparing food. My shirt and pants are mercifully barbecue free and there is no need to mask the smell of fryer oil with copious amounts of deodorant. 

Instead, I go for a drive, taking US-30 until the robotic female voice of the GPS tells me to get off at an exit. Winding back roads and sparsely populated rural towns flash through the windshield. Before I know it, I pull into a suburb outside of Green. I initially miss the driveway, but I notice a sign proudly advertising the home of a Hoban senior and my wheels stop spinning. 

Knocking on the door, I’m slightly anxious as I wonder what the night will bring. I do eventually relax, enjoying the night and camaraderie with people who have become family through my years at Hoban. We turn costumes into a competition, with one group as characters from Sailor Moon and one exploiting childhood nostalgia with the Muppets. I went as Beaker, of course, my favorite muppet.

Through trick-or-treating, trading candy and playing Jackbox TV, this experience has been more fun than I’ve had in a long time. The stress of college applications, work and an upcoming theatre performance melts away until all that’s left is a deep sense of tranquility…and few Kit Kats. 

My friends are amazing and through gental ribbing and fight club (I can’t talk about it), I’m reminded of the initial reason I chose to spend time with them . Adult life is coming fast, but I can handle anything with this group at my side, even the most terrifying of hangry customers and fast food managers.

After all, a small pack of skittles goes well with a small pack of friends.