I may be a day late on this story, but at least I'm not $60 short. It’s the Halloween that will never end. It lingers in the mysteriously disappearing stale candy in the mushy pumpkin by the door and a few sprinkles of glitter on my cluttered desk. It screams at me on Facebook as 1,733 (as of this morning) unhappy Facebook folk have organized a “We got scammed by Tavern on the Green 2009 Halloween!” group. Thousands of comments recall the true Halloween nightmare these people and many others endured. Many have asked me to weigh in on this, including my editor, so I made some calls.

No, it really isn't pronounced that way -- but nonetheless, there will be a fight between those dynamic twins Derek and Daniel Koch. Its all for a good cause: the 3rd Annual Fight Night & Poker Tournament benefit for Sunflower Children. The event is co-hosted by Russell Simmons, World Series of Poker winner Jamie Gold, supermodels Paulina Porizkova, Helena Houdova, and Lane Carlson, and gala sponsor, environmentalist, and Wall Street honcho Tim Kelly. This year, the black-tie gala will honor music legend Quincy Jones; it will be held this Friday, November 6, at the Hammerstein Ballroom from 6pm until late. The late-night after-party will be hosted by the twins themselves. Proceeds will support Sunflower Children's SaveABaby initiative. Derek, Daniel, and I had a quick snack and chat yesterday at Cafe Gitane.

Now it's serious. The re re-election of Michael Bloomberg seemed inevitable until actual election results showed it to be a close call. Although most people I know would have thought he did a great job if he went quietly into the night after his second term, the "redefining" of the election rules allowing him a third term left most squirming. Back in my poli-sci college years -- yes, we used stone tablets, and Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble were my dorm-mates -- we thought that the best form of government was a benevolent dictatorship. Well, let's hope that is correct, for we certainly have one now. Mayor Mike has certainly been better for clubs than Rudy Giuliani, but despite what most people believe, I say Rudy was way better than David Dinkins. Under Giuliani, there was at least a dialogue, and business considerations were ... considered. You could get the ear of someone making decisions. It wasn't always perfect, but it wasn't usually a disaster. The Dinkins administration was a mess. Community groups and special interests rammed through their agendas, and as I remember it, nightlife fell victim to this bureaucratic anarchy.

There's got to be more to it than that. I'm talking nightlife that is -- which is, after all, what I talk about. Going to a club and watching promoters with IQs hovering just above their jacket size while wispy waifs sway to lowest common denominator music can't be sold to me as cultural or even social. During a design-construction meeting for a joint that is being secretly built and will open in three weeks, I asked, "What kind of music are you guys playing here?. The answer was commercial and offered without hesitation as if it was a badge of honor. Look, I'm for pleasing the people, but at some point you should try to show them something fresh. The only envelope this crop of owner/management types want to push is one with loot in it -- through a teller window. It's not right, and it should not be rewarded. On this election day 2009, I elect to speak of other things to do as darkness expands with every passing day. Let's talk a bit about artsy happenings this week.

After at least three days of being tricked into a Halloween state of mind, I'm not sure this story will be much of a treat. The longest Halloween ever started for some this past Thursday, and I bet somewhere in New York right now there are still a few partying on. First of all, when did the Village Halloween parade get kidnapped by the straights and the Disney Channel crowd? It used to be a gayer, smaller, sexier, more risque parade. Only a few years ago, it was witches who were switches and a "Top" Chef costume would have looked much different. I guess over the years, observing through the amber-colored glasses of my Elvis costume, I didn't notice. It's not a bad thing, but it is different. Although the rain transformed some costumes, as running mascara turned Britney Spearses into Courtney Loves, and hobgoblins carried umbrellas ... but the spirit was not dampened at all.

The collision of Halloween -- the biggest nightclub night of the year west of New Year's Eve -- with a Saturday night creates problems and opportunities. Every joint in town, even the clunkers, are normally jammed on a Saturday. Halloween brings frenzy when it alights on a Monday; how will clubs prevent a loss of revenues as two great cash nights are crammed into one? They can't fit any more people in and can't charge too much more. Halloween revelers tend to want to hop from joint to joint and hit a few home invasion parties as well. There is greater turnover -- more peeps in and out throughout the evening as ghosts and ghouls, goblins and hobgoblins, Michael Jacksons and Thriller posses somehow trek from haunted mansion to haunted house. It may mean a bit more revenue, but not enough to make up for the overlap. Another revenue stream is necessary. Some clubs make loot by expanding the holiday into the entire weekend. Here's a guide to the events defining the day before and the day after tomorrow.

This Sunday, an old assistant of mine, Norisol Ferrari (like the car), will present her line of bespoke creations at a fashion show at Safe Harbor NY, that 5000-squre-foot loft space at 446 Broadway just north of Howard. I went to a few great events there this past summer, and this figures to be fab. I'll give Norisol a plug here because she has traveled real far to get to this moment, and her story is entwined in the fabric of New York nightlife. Her biological parents gave her up at 11 -- first her mom, then her dad -- and she was a guest of various unsavory New York State facilities for girls like that. "That set the tone for the rest of my life," she says without a visible tear or even a whimper. The state facilities were like prison -- "I couldn't live there, so I ran away to New York. Another runaway took me to a club because they were warm and safe and rarely closed back then. The drag queens took care of me."

I have always taken Halloween too seriously. For clubs it generally marks the end of a post-summer slow period and the beginning of the holiday season, which is for many joints their first reason to be cheerful since Labor Day. It is a night of insanity and money. It can also be mayhem for security guards who face a myriad of potential nightmares. Brawlers, thieves, dealers, and bad, bad patrons who have been previously banished (86’d) can easily disguise their way back in to a club. Patrons who are normally sane channel dark lords and monsters while carrying scythes or swords -- which after a few witches brews can be quite dangerous. A few years ago, I bought myself a real good Elvis costume and have been wearing it ever since (I mean, only on Halloween of course). I'm the old fat Elvis with a gray Elvis wig, gold rings and chains, sunglasses, fancy Elvis shoes. This year, thank God and a low-rent diet, I'll need a bigger pillow to pull it off. I always walk in the parade, and sometimes I have been known to sing a song. I always talk in “the” voice. I’ve been known to judge a costume contest or two. This year, like all the rest, I will be all dressed up looking for someplace to go. One of the great things about Halloween is that in general people do dress, and it can make a usually awful gathering look swell. My choices for Halloween are:

If bad things truly happen in threes, then expect something awful next week to occur at the eco-friendly green machine called Greenhouse. One of the most successful nightclubs out there right now, Greenhouse was hit last week with a billion-dollar lawsuit. What wasn't widely understood was the suit was about an incident that occurred on August 6. Racism charges flew fast and furious as author Teri Woods claimed her guests were turned away because they were black or fat or both, I guess, depending on the guest. A source close to the action tells me that her party was arranged by a promoter named "Village" and that a verbal agreement allowed her to have 50 guests before 11pm. No one can say whether Mr. Village conveyed the club's terms to Ms. Woods.

The last time I visited Atlantic City, my experience was inconsistent. On one hand, the room I stayed in was wonderful; on the other, service was so bad it was almost funny. The piece was not received well in "Vegas by the sea." A New York Times Sunday Business lead story coincided with this past weekend's revisit. I was there to scope out the Chelsea Hotel once again. I am doing the Halloween decor and needed to take photos and measurements and such.