5th Avenue vs Clark Bar
After I finished my paper route this morning I stopped into 7/11 (this is a different one than my regular near the house. I am getting tired of the easy familiarity of the staff there and their interest in my eating habits and why I don't smile more at 6 in the morning) to pick up some breakfast.
The sandwiches are having a contest whereupon you peel off a sticker on the box, you get a free extra piece of garbage that they want to promote. I have no objection to that, except that sometimes you get gum and then other times you win a neat extra, like a hot dog, or a big bag of chips. I cheat and peel off the sticker before I get to the counter. I'm no fool. I'm not going get stuck with the shit they can't give away when there are goodies like chips and candy bars that I would rather toss down my gullet.
Which brings me to candy bars. Today I won a free candy bar that I was unfamiliar with, so the Chinese lady who runs the place said "take any candy bar...Any one you want". This sounded against the rules, but that's ok. When the Chinese lady says I can take any candy I want, I do as she says.
I wanted a Clark Bar, an old reliable that you can eat anywhere, even the opera or in court. I picked up my prize, took her back to the van along with my chicken salad sandwich, carrots, and pretzels, and proceeded home.
If you have read my blog before, you know that food in my bag does not usually get all the way home, that I usually play with it, and eat some, before I haul it into my apartment. I unwrapped the Clark Bar, greedily, but with the experience of someone who had eaten this type of candy bar before. It tastes something like a Butterfinger, but is firmer, and of more resolute form.
I am driving along, eating my free candy, messing with the radio, when to my great astonishment I looked at the wrapper, which was brown like a Clark Bar, but which instead said 5th Avenue! The whole time I was eating a 5th Avenue, thinking it was a Clark Bar!
I thought about it; shoved the last bit down my throat, and said to myself, in whisper, "isn't that something".
Joe Postove
The sandwiches are having a contest whereupon you peel off a sticker on the box, you get a free extra piece of garbage that they want to promote. I have no objection to that, except that sometimes you get gum and then other times you win a neat extra, like a hot dog, or a big bag of chips. I cheat and peel off the sticker before I get to the counter. I'm no fool. I'm not going get stuck with the shit they can't give away when there are goodies like chips and candy bars that I would rather toss down my gullet.
Which brings me to candy bars. Today I won a free candy bar that I was unfamiliar with, so the Chinese lady who runs the place said "take any candy bar...Any one you want". This sounded against the rules, but that's ok. When the Chinese lady says I can take any candy I want, I do as she says.
I wanted a Clark Bar, an old reliable that you can eat anywhere, even the opera or in court. I picked up my prize, took her back to the van along with my chicken salad sandwich, carrots, and pretzels, and proceeded home.
If you have read my blog before, you know that food in my bag does not usually get all the way home, that I usually play with it, and eat some, before I haul it into my apartment. I unwrapped the Clark Bar, greedily, but with the experience of someone who had eaten this type of candy bar before. It tastes something like a Butterfinger, but is firmer, and of more resolute form.
I am driving along, eating my free candy, messing with the radio, when to my great astonishment I looked at the wrapper, which was brown like a Clark Bar, but which instead said 5th Avenue! The whole time I was eating a 5th Avenue, thinking it was a Clark Bar!
I thought about it; shoved the last bit down my throat, and said to myself, in whisper, "isn't that something".
Joe Postove
posted by Mr. Liberty at 3:37 PM
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