(this was written in 2001)

I am a candy connoisseur.  I try every new candy that comes out on the market, hoping to find exciting ways to occupy my palate.  Usually, I’m disappointed with new candy.  Candy makers often try to make the recently developed candies extremely sour or bury perfectly good “classic” candybars under a suffocating load of chocolate (see the “Big Kat”).  It is when I try these treats that I find myself longing for the candy of my childhood, when real cinnamon oil was used to make lollipops and real peppermint oil, not merely flavoring, was used to make candycanes.  Most modern candycanes suffer from a fakey, artificial peppermint essence, not the real deal at all.  Fortunately, Walgreens carries Joybrite candycanes during the holiday months, which happen to be the only canes I can find that use natural peppermint oil.

Two years ago, my husband Ted and I had just spent Christmas with his family who live in the sullen dullness of suburban Minnetonka.  A blanket of boredom covers most of Minnetonka, especially during the holidays. Only true candy aficionados pay attention to day-after-major-holiday candy sales.  Knowing that I enjoy eating candycanes every day of the year, I realized I needed to stock up.  As we were heading back to the salvation of St. Paul, I remembered that I wanted to buy the good candycanes before they were gone.  We headed to the Minnetonka Walgreens.

I told Ted to wait in the car as I would only be a moment.  He dropped me off in front of Walgreens and sat patiently in his quietly humming station wagon.  There was virtually no one in Walgreens on the evening of December 26, 1999.  As I walked through the glass doors into the fluorescent glare of the store lights, I noticed an employee.  This particular employee was a young, 20ish male with a long, spiky purple mohawk.  He was huddled behind the photo counter, clearly bored without the company of coworkers or customers.  He gave me a half smile and a wave, telling me to grab him if I needed any assistance.  I smiled absently and headed to the holiday aisle.

I grinned as I saw the huge “50% off all Christmas merchandise and candy” signs that peppered the shelves.  Now the hunt…  I had obtained a shopping cart at the front of the store, anticipating I might be buying a large amount of candycanes.  As I scanned the shelves, I was disappointed to find only twelve boxes of my beloved Joybrite mini-candycanes.  I forgot to mention that Ted and I only really like miniature candycanes.  I am not sure why we are so stubborn about the size of the canes, but that’s just what we like.

I gathered the twelve boxes, normally priced at $2.99 per box (84 canes per box), now a mere $1.49.  As I headed to the front of the store to purchase my sugary bounty, Mohawk Boy started to laugh as he saw all of the boxes in my cart.  Then, he suddenly grew solemn and said, “There are more boxes of the candycanes on the top shelf.  Do you want those, too?”  Being five feet tall, I don’t often look at the top shelves in stores or wherever, so I had missed more candycane goodness.  There were easily around 20 extra boxes of candycanes on the top shelf.  I looked at them longingly, knowing that if I bought them, I’d be spending close to $45 on candy.  Not that I haven’t done that before, but I hadn’t really prepared myself for spending so much.  Mohawk Boy noted my hesitation and said, “Do you want those other boxes?  If you buy them, the inventory for them won’t have to be redone every day as we continue to reduce the prices.”  He was trying to reduce his workload and he was getting my attention.  I raised an eyebrow as he continued, “I will make it worth your while if you clear out my stock.”  I wondered, “How worth my while?”  I agreed to negotiate.  He just smiled and started to climb the shelves, handing down boxes and boxes of my beloved candycanes.

By the time he had cleared the shelf, my shopping cart overflowed with bright red, white and green boxes.  As we approached the cash register, I giggled, knowing Ted would be wondering what was taking so long.  Little did he know I was getting the deal of the century.

When all was said and done, I got 31 boxes of candycanes for $24 – Mohawk Boy had made good on his promise.  He then asked if I needed assistance getting the boxes to my car.  I did need help, and he was bored so he generously pushed the full-to-bursting cart out the door to Ted’s car.

Ted grinned even though he looked shocked.  He wasn’t that shocked – he knows how much I love candy.  He got out of the car, helped unload the boxes of candycanes, thanked Mohawk Boy and we were off.  He kept grinning and shaking his head.  He started to say, “You realize we’ll probably never have to buy candycanes again…” He paused.  “What am I saying?  Who am I talking about?  Of course you’ll need to buy more candycanes next year.”  He laughed and drove us home to St. Paul.