Here's the idea: Every day, I will set a timer for 30 minutes, and for that thirty minutes I will try my hardest to write a story. The stories will be random and I will try to complete them all before the 30 minutes ends. Sometimes I won't succeed, but that's half the fun!
Should a day be missed, and a story is felt to be adequate enough of a second part, a two part day will be created!
Let the game begin!
Friday, August 26, 2011
Remember those commercials that said, “What would you do for a Klondike bar?” Yeah, well this is my story about what I did for one.
It was one of those days when you suddenly have a craving and there’s nothing else that will satisfy it. I really needed a Klondike bar. I thought, ‘Hmm, I’ll go down to Shop Rite and grab myself a pack of them.” Easier thought than done.
When I got to the Shop Rite down the street, they were all out! I don’t mean, out of the plain vanilla ice cream ones, but all of them. The Reeses ones, the mint chocolate chip, the heath, the pretzel caramel, even the coffee ones! All gone!
I asked one of the workers if there were any in the back, and after waiting anxiously, and freezing, in the freezer aisle, he came back and told me there weren’t.
I was near crushed, but figured, ‘Hey, I’ll just go to the Pathmark!’
Pathmark, same thing, fresh out. It was the same at the Foodtown, the Stop and Shop, the A&P, and the CVS and Walgreens! Everywhere I could think of that sells Klondike bars, or that I thought I remembered having seen them before, didn’t have them! Even at the 711’s and the Wawa’s, where they have them in those small freezers for single sale, no luck!
I figured that I wasn’t the only person definitely craving one, or maybe a shipment got lost on the way to my town, or maybe, I shuddered at the thought, they went out of business! Thank God, I checked my iPhone and saw that Klondike wasn’t anywhere in the news.
I began to walk through my neighborhood, hoping that I would be able to calm myself down and get my mind off of those scrumptious novelty treats, but I couldn’t do it. That’s when I walked by the park and saw some children outside eating some regular, traditional Klondike bars.
I quickly ran around the park, looking for the damn gate and sprinted at the children like some sort of junkie trying to get his fix. I think by this point I might have been covered in sweat from walking outside in the heat, and I had tripped on a hole in the sidewalk, so I had hurt my ankle and was slightly limping, and I might have been shaking with anticipation as well. I was lucky that the children didn’t all scream and run away while I got taken away for attempted molestation of children.
A middle-aged man with shorts just a little too short asked me if there was anything I needed. I saw that he was wearing a vest with a boy scouts logo and got the idea. These were all boy scouts. They weren’t going to just deal out their precious ice cream treats to me, I needed to be one of them. I quickly thought up a lie.
“Hi, my name is… uh, Sean Worthington. I had gone to the Boy Scout’s office and asked about signing up to volunteer, and they said that you were the man to talk to. Is that true?”
The man’s face lit up. “Oh yes, we could definitely use some help. Were you interested in helping out right away? We have some fun activities planned for the day, and it’d be great to have another adult here to help out. After we can talk more and get everything figured out about continuing after today.”
“Oh, that sounds perfect!”
“Okay, then in that case,” he said, making me shudder, knowing that something unpleasant was coming, “I need you to fill out some forms real quick. I have them in my bag, believe it or not!”
‘Of course he does,’ I thought, following him over to where his back pack was sitting. It was one of those hiking bags, like he was an actual adventurer, when in reality it looked like he had never climbed up a hill in his life, lest a mountain.
“Here you go,” he said, handing me the forms. “You just fill these out here and then we’ll start on our activities. We were just starting a break anyway.”
I filled out all the forms, grumbling angrily as I created fake addresses and phone numbers and references. I had no interest in working with the Boy Scouts, I hated those kids that were part of them when I was that age. I just wanted the stupid ice cream.
When I finished all the forms, I handed them to the scout leader and he smiled enormously. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed.
“Oh,” I said, as though just thinking it for the first time, “did you by chance have any more of those Klondike bars? It’s awfully hot today.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he frowned, “we don’t. Mickey just took the last one.” He pointed at the boy called Mickey and I felt a flow of hatred for the small child well up inside me.
“Oh, that’s okay,” I lied again. “Where did you get them, was it close? I’ll just go grab one and come right back.”
“Oh, I’m sorry again!” he chuckled slightly, making me want to punch him in the face, “I got them on the other side of the bay at the A&P. I kayaked over here.”
I was learning to hate this man more and more as the minutes went by.
“Oh, that’s okay,” I lied once more, “You know, give me a sec. I’m a little hot, I’m just going to go put my feet in the water to cool off. I’ll be right back.”
Like that, I walked off towards the bay, and saw his kayak sitting there, waiting for me. I kicked off my shoes and ran to it and flew with it into the water and started paddling like I had never paddled before. The man and children began shouting after me, but I wasn’t about to stop. I was on a mission.
Before long, I saw the A&P in sight; like some sort of mirage in the dessert. I made it.
I ran into the store, ignoring the complaints about me being barefoot, and ran straight to the ice cream aisle. I was appalled to see nothing there. No Klondikes, just like all the rest.
I wanted to start yelling out profanities, but I kept my calm. I walked to the front of the store and was about to exit, when I saw a guy buying a package of Klondike bars. He must have found the last one.
“Sir!” I shouted, running to him, like some sort of lunatic, just broken out of the asylum. “Can I buy those Klondike bars off of you? Actually, could I just buy one!”
“What?!” he asked in shock.
“I need a Klondike bar! You have the last ones anywhere I can find! I just need one, please. What do you want for it?” I pulled out my wallet and looked in. “All I have is this twenty. Is that good?”
He looked down at me, and believe it or not, I got the one person who would take advantage of a situation like this. He said, “I don’t know…” while looking at my twenty. He then looked up above my eyes. “Are those Oakley’s you’re wearing?” he asked looking at my sunglasses.
“Yes…” I hesitated.
“I want those,” he said, putting out his hand.
“But they’re worth $200! Those Klondike’s aren’t worth more than $5!” I shouted, stil in the store mind you.
“You said you wanted them!”
Oh my God, I was actually considering it.
“Okay, you know what,” I said, thrusting the Oakley’s in his direction, “Take ‘em. Whatever.”
“And is that a Fossil watch?” “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
“And I like your wallet. Very nice.”
“You want my wallet too?” “You can keep what’s in it, I just want the wallet itself. Oh, and I want the twenty too, obviously.”
“Of course you do…” I glared at him. “Fine, just take the crap and give me the Klondike bars!”
I passed off all of my stuff to him, and was grateful he hadn’t seen my iPhone. He smiled and gave me the Klondike bars.
“Asshole,” I said under my breath.
“Sucker,” he said under his.
But even after all of this, let me tell you, that first Klondike bar (because obviously I ate all of them in one sitting, disregarding the amount of fat), it was so beyond good, I actually thought it was worth it.
That is until the next day when I replayed everything that had happened in my head.