As a kid, I used the scale at my house once a year to weigh in the bounty from Halloween. And if you had told me the scale’s primary purpose was for people, I would have called you a liar.
When I went trick-or-treating, I could judge what kind of candy I was going to get before even knocking on the door. If the house had a three car garage, the odds of getting a king size candy bar skyrocketed. If there was a Toyota Prius parked out front, I would skip that house. I didn’t need any soy protein bars. If there was a basket on the front porch with the classic “Take One Only Please” sign, there would be a burst of adrenaline. Time would slow down. From a distance, one of my friends would yell out, “Dude, it’s a basket!” Heart pounding, all of us would instantaneously hit our top speed. We would grab candy by the handful because we interpreted the sign as “Take One (as large as possible handful of candy) Only Please.” We would tell our parents that it is always necessary to define pronouns no matter how implied. Kids are the best at finding loopholes.
As I got older, I became even more tactical. Using a a pragmatic approach, I would individually select neighborhoods to take my trick-or-treating. Flat areas with minimal changes in elevation and as close as possible to sea level for better breathing were both ideal. Higher population density and property taxes were a plus. Short driveways and narrow distance from curb to front door were important considerations too. All of these strategies equaled more houses serviced which in turn equaled a bigger bounty.
Is there such a thing as a BMI for a pillow case filled with candy? I’ll leave it to future generations of trick-or-treaters to come up with the formula.