October 12, 2006 at 3:59 AMOne day, when I was in college, friendly group conversation wandered to the topic of PEZ candy. Doe-eyed, I remarked that I'd never heard of PEZ. The disbelief that this statement flourished amongst my peers was so great that I vowed that very day never, ever, to eat PEZ. Though at times I was held to the floor and tortured, and dark days brought my morality to lowly thoughts of PEZ, still I kept my PEZ chastity. It was difficult, but I survived, and post-college life proved to be largely devoid of the curious temptation.
I don't know, then, how the package of PEZ ended up on my bathroom floor two years ago, but it had nothing to do with me; this, I know. Every week, when I stashed my scattered laundry and ran the vacuum, I would carefully maneuver around the PEZ, which remained half-obscured by the overhanging sink cupboard. Once a week, the floor became lint and clutter free--with the exception of the singular PEZ package, still lurking at the edge of the sink.
Temporarily the sole occupant of my household, I have become acutely aware of all happenings that were not the result of my own actions. I know when my magazines have been perused by an idle parent. I take note when a student has spit something in the sink without washing it down. I notice when pockets have been emptied of candy wrappers into my wastebasket. So this morning when I glanced at my toes while brushing my teeth, the mangled PEZ wrapper caught my eye, even though it peeked out from the exact same location that it had the past 730 days. Someone--or something--ate the PEZ.
It's in there now, the hollow shell that once held all that is PEZ, and I still don't know what it tastes like.
Someone told me PEZ tastes like Necco candy. If so, I'm not missing much. Necco tastes like flavored chalk. (...although I used to eat chalk when I was little.) Judging by the flavor of that old school candy, I believe all the "when I was your age" stories the grandparents tell me. Boy, they must've had it rough back then.
The perfect remedy to an accidental ingestion of Tootsie Rolls is, of course, Prunes.
Or a 32 oz. bottle of prune juice.
Emily, your sense of humour keeps me on the seat of my chair reading blogs.
What would happen if a cat ate PEZ? What is pez, exactly anyway? A halloween give-out that requires a special canister for delivery? But the actual candy is??
Tootsie rolls are disaster for those wearing braces. And it isn't worth the trouble, as, say....a caramel square would be. Not that I have braces anymore. 5 years was enough.
A testament to the mystical power of Pez and those miraculous dispensers.
In that same episode, I should also add that Jerry leans over and offers Elaine a pez from the dispenser during a piano recital -- the sight of which in that context causes her to burst out laughing and ruin the concert.
A testament to the dark side of pez.
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