If you think about it, trick-or-treating is kind of like taxes. Everybody gives a portion of what they have for the common good (a.k.a. happy kids all over town on Halloween night). That would make kids dressed in Spiderman, Sleeping Beauty or Sponge Bob Squarepants costumes the government. Interesting.

Once, when I was a freshman in college, a few of my friends and I were hungry. Having no money and no food, we decided to try the trick-or-treat method.

Yes, it was September.

Somehow we dug out these ball gowns from the ‘80s (can I just say "poofy sleeves") and grabbed some plastic sacks and went door-to-door, smiling our best hopeful smiles and offering the traditional "Trick-or-treat!"

The pay off, my friends, was good. A few candybars, a box of Triscuits, a package of Hot and Spicy Szechuan Ramen Noodles, two quarters and three pennies, a half a bag of SunChips, a bottle of gatorade, two pencils, a deck of cards, a pair of socks, and some slightly-dry but still delicious licorice.

And that's even after we stopped at a few rooms who told us they had nothing and looked so sad that we gave them something out of our bags.

The moral of the story? I don't know. Maybe that it's good now and then to innocently expect, like kids in costumes, that people out of pure generosity, will simply share something with you if you ask. Maybe it's that ‘80s ball gowns still have a purpose. Maybe it's that when the package says "Hot and Spicy Szechuan" it means "HOT AND SPICY." Take what you will.

Trick-or-treat!