The Augusta Jaycees are running their Haunted House in a warehouse right across the street -- this weekend and next weekend, $8 -- so my friend Jason and I went last night, after fortifying ourselves at the newly-reopened pub next door.
Neither of us had any idea of what to expect; Jason had never been to a haunted house, and I hadn't been to one in decades. Also, I don't see much in the dark anymore, and did not know whether that would ruin the effects or make them even scarier.
Even scarier, as it turned out. Jason let me clutch his arm all the way through the house, and without him I wouldn't have been able to see enough to walk; but strategic lighting and strobes were enough to let me see the monsters and scary things that jumped out at us.
It was really well done, genuinely scary, and we were both glad to get out -- but also glad to have gone through it.
It's a weird idea of fun, but it was fun -- and why is this? Why do we like horror novels, why do we like roller coasters and thrill rides?
I'm guessing that adrenaline fuels some mood enhancer in the brain, and it's fun to dump a lot of adrenaline into your system when you're not really in danger. There's probably a lot of medical research on this very issue, but it's Saturday and I am not going to spend the day looking it up.
Instead, I might go rent a scary movie.