A Tragedy of Gummis
I'm craving something sweet and chewy. Naturally, gummi bears came to mind, which always remind me of this.
A few years ago, Lee, Jonathan and I were on our way to see a movie. Being the cheapskates that we were (are), we didn't want to purchase over-priced snacks at the movie concession stand. Instead, we decided to stop at the grocery store and stock up on the more reasonably-priced goodies there.
Browsing the candy aisle at the store, Lee decided he wanted gummi bears. But not just any gummi bears would do. He only wanted his favorites – the red and clear ones. So he went to the bulk candy aisle, got a pair of tongs, and began the long, tedious task of picking out only the red and clear gummi bears.
Jonathan and I discussed our candy options, weighing the pros and cons of each selection, and made our choices. We ventured over to the bulk candy aisle and found Lee, still rummaging through the barrel of bears, filling his bag with red and clear gummis. We knew it would be a while before he was finished, so we decided to browse the aisles while he finished his task.
About fifteen minutes later, Lee found us a few aisles away. The look of satisfaction on his face was priceless. It didn't matter how good or bad the movie was. He knew he would enjoy it because there would be no green, yellow or orange gummi bears involved. Life was good.
And then, it happened. As Lee started walking down the aisle toward us, holding up his trophy bag of gummis for Jonathan and I to admire, something happened that none of us can explain: the bag slipped from Lee's hand. I can still see it all unfold as if it happened only yesterday...The gasps of terror that escaped from each of us, the horrified look on Lee's face, the frantic but futile fumbling as he tried to catch the bag in mid-air, the bag exploding as it hit the ground, and the countless red and clear gummi bears scattering across the floor. Jonathan and I stood frozen, as Lee took one look at the mess, threw his fists in the air, and screamed, "My life's work!"
Of course, Jonathan and I burst into hysterical laughter, but managed to compose ourselves enough to help Lee clean up the mess. We picked up the bears, returned them to the bag, and left the bag on a random shelf. Lee was so disheartened by his loss that he left the store without bothering to choose another snack.
Poor guy.
A few years ago, Lee, Jonathan and I were on our way to see a movie. Being the cheapskates that we were (are), we didn't want to purchase over-priced snacks at the movie concession stand. Instead, we decided to stop at the grocery store and stock up on the more reasonably-priced goodies there.
Browsing the candy aisle at the store, Lee decided he wanted gummi bears. But not just any gummi bears would do. He only wanted his favorites – the red and clear ones. So he went to the bulk candy aisle, got a pair of tongs, and began the long, tedious task of picking out only the red and clear gummi bears.
Jonathan and I discussed our candy options, weighing the pros and cons of each selection, and made our choices. We ventured over to the bulk candy aisle and found Lee, still rummaging through the barrel of bears, filling his bag with red and clear gummis. We knew it would be a while before he was finished, so we decided to browse the aisles while he finished his task.
About fifteen minutes later, Lee found us a few aisles away. The look of satisfaction on his face was priceless. It didn't matter how good or bad the movie was. He knew he would enjoy it because there would be no green, yellow or orange gummi bears involved. Life was good.
And then, it happened. As Lee started walking down the aisle toward us, holding up his trophy bag of gummis for Jonathan and I to admire, something happened that none of us can explain: the bag slipped from Lee's hand. I can still see it all unfold as if it happened only yesterday...The gasps of terror that escaped from each of us, the horrified look on Lee's face, the frantic but futile fumbling as he tried to catch the bag in mid-air, the bag exploding as it hit the ground, and the countless red and clear gummi bears scattering across the floor. Jonathan and I stood frozen, as Lee took one look at the mess, threw his fists in the air, and screamed, "My life's work!"
Of course, Jonathan and I burst into hysterical laughter, but managed to compose ourselves enough to help Lee clean up the mess. We picked up the bears, returned them to the bag, and left the bag on a random shelf. Lee was so disheartened by his loss that he left the store without bothering to choose another snack.
Poor guy.
posted by Amanda at 2:04 PM
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