Everytime I go to the movies, I get Good n’ Plenty.
People look at me like I’m crazy, because who goes to the movies and picks a box of purple and white-colored covered black licorice pieces over M&Ms and ice cream bites and popcorn and so on and so on and so on? Who goes to a supermarket and just walks out with a red onion? Who loses a limb in a tragic car accident and goes to the limb-replacement store and chooses a wet piece of steak for a left arm instead of a hi-tech gleaming metal claw?
This thought process made me decide that I really don’t like Good n’ Plenty after all.
Do you ever find yourself doing something in life that really doesn’t seem like the best choice and yet you keep doing it despite other people’s warnings? Do you ever find yourself continuing to make that same decision even though deep down you aren’t really that satisfied with it? Have you ever started to collect pennies in a jar because it seems like the best decision, then realize halfway through that this dirty jar of copper is the biggest waste of time, only to keep collecting said dirty jar of copper because, “Hell, it could someday buy you a big box of Good n’ Plenty…” and then curse the Heavens when you end up having to roll them up in those annoying paper tubes for the bank?
Sort of the same way I feel about Good n’ Plenty.
In the beginning, I had to stop eating Good n’ Fruity for two reasons. Most movie theaters stopped carrying the treat because I think no one wanted to be eating a candy with the word “fruity” in it. Second of all, Good n’ Fruity honestly really does taste like you’re eating little rods of frozen pee. I have never “tasted pee” mind you even though I have joked about a certain fad-tastic frozen yogurt in L.A. tasting like the stuff, but when you eat Good n’ Fruity if you ever get the chance you will crack through the tasty outer candy and then hit the frozen pee center and think to yourself, “Yeah. Pee.”
And so, when I was left with the Plenty part of the equation, I embraced it.
The basic concept and selling point of Good n’ Plenty is that there’s a sh*tload of candy in there. It’s like, if you did a census of the candy population inside of all candy boxes, it would rank something like this:
Good n’ Plenty / Mumbai, India
Skittles / Shanghai, China
Recees Pieces (Bag) / Tokyo, Japan
King Size Junior Mints / New York, NY
Milk Duds / London, U.K.
Sour Patch Kids / Bangkok, Thailand
See, Good n’ Plenty has the most candy for your buck in a cardboard box. But just because Mumbai, India is the most populous city in the world doesn’t mean I’m going to save my money and go there the next chance I have. And yet, when I go to the movies, I do EXACTLY THAT with the Good n’ Plenty.
I realized yesterday, somewhere in between Peter Parker dancing in a jazz club and Sandman crying over a crippled daughter, that the Good n’ Plenty marketing geniuses have caused me to fill my intestines with mediocre, bad-tasting, stomach churning purple and white candy covered black licorice for last eight years of my life…
…and I’ve just gone alone with it.
And around the same time I realized that I’d just gone along with it like some candy coefficient, I also realized that I really don’t even like Good n’ Plenty at all. That I just eat to eat and not to enjoy, all the while saying to myself, “Hey, I’ve been eating this candy for like thirty minutes and THERE’S STILL MORE IN HERE! This is like, the most amazing candy-eating experience ever!! And WAIT! There’s even MORE down there. How crazy is this!?”
I don’t like this damn candy, yet I keep on buying it. Since when does deciding something actually make you stop doing it?
I can only hope the answer to that question is: soon.