When I was a kid, after a night of trick or treating, the first thing I would do after getting home is sort the candy like it was a set of poker chips.

The highest value? The most prized pieces? You know this, people. It’s the Reese’s Peanut butter cup. No question.

The next tier would be for Snickers*, Hundred Grand, Kit Kat, Pay Day and mini Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups (the ones in the gold foil).

The tier below that: Milky Way (the wonderful midnight Milky Way with the dark chocolate and different nougat didn’t exist yet), Almond Joy, Three Musketeers, Charleston Chew, Butterfinger (decent candy but it’s kind of like fossilized Reese’s and the shale-esque peanut stuff sticks in your teeth like a filling), and Tootsie Rolls (large).

Five dollar blackjack chips: Hershey’s Minis, Nestly Crunch, Bit ‘O Honey, Mounds, Starburst, Smarties, Tootsie Rolls (midgies).

Penny slots: Now ‘n Laters, Nicco Wafers, random hard candies, and Werther’s Originals.

And much like a gambler, I went high roller first. I tried to stay away from the cups but they just called to me. They would be gone in a day. Then the Snickers*, then the Milky Ways and on down until it was just the dregs. The process lasted a week and it was glorious.

I have to admit that I trick or treated far too late. I definitely did it in the eighth grade and probably freshman year in high school. Hell, maybe even sophomore year. I’ve got pride, sure, but free candy is free candy.

Late high school is then a dead zone. It just means that you see cobwebs and plastic spiders in convenience stores and maybe hand out candy to kids. In college it was yet another excuse to go to a party, usually whichever Saturday fell before the actual day.

Post college, I remember having at least a few born again Christian or Jehovah’s Witness co-workers who would pass out literature about how it was a pagan holiday (or maybe it was Satanic, maybe both). I lived in Williamsburg for twelve years and never saw children trick or treating. They never came to my building, anyway.

Then I moved to Park Slope.

When I first moved here, it was right after Hurricane Sandy. The subways were down and the streets were more crowded than normal. The bars were too. I met some friends for drinks and the local german Beer Hall that was filled with parents and children. We live in an era where children in a bar is not uncommon but this looked like a damn daycare. So, a few days later when my street was flooded with children for Halloween, I figured it was just a Sandy thing. Surely it wouldn’t be like this next year.

Wrong.

My street is pretty wide and accommodates a lot of children. I don’t know how long it’s been like this but the street reaches critical mass. It’s like kiddie Woodstock. Last year they closed down the avenue to traffic. There’s even a parade down my street.

Tonight I gave out five large bags of candy that I bought at Duane Reade four around thirty-seven dollars in six minutes. That is not an exaggeration. I timed it. Six minutes. I told my girlfriend this would happen. She didn’t believe it. Then she watched it. She was amazed. I was the corpse and these little Black Panthers, Hogwarts Students, Storm Troopers, and Princesses were the buzzards.

I look at it this way. Given my history of trick or treating into my teens, it’s time to pay it forward. I was proud of my bucket of candy. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Reese’s Pieces Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Reese’s Mini pumpkins, a variety pack of Snickers*, Kit Kats, and M&M’s, plain and peanut.

I’ve only started giving out candy over the past three years. Every time I get the bucket together I have a “don’t get high on your own supply” moment. The candy’s for the kids. But I do take a little. A few pieces. I wonder how much is too much but also how little would be too little.

It’s weird but also wonderful that there’s something in my brain preventing me from realizing that I am an adult who can go out and purchase as much candy as I want any time I want. But that’s the magic of Halloween. It’s just different when it’s the fun size, when everyone is doing it, when it’s like scavenging for treasure.