Posts Tagged ‘Butterfinger’


Thursday, 25 December 2008

Some of you will recall my highly-localized tradition of anonymous Butterfinger bars. Last night, I went to the local CVS pharmacy and bought an eight-pack of Butterfinger Mini bars, took it home and gift-wrapped it, and then snuck it under the miniature Christmas tree on my neighbors' table.

While at CVS pharmacy, I encountered Chris, who was despairing over an immediate lack of consumer choice. He had an urgent need to replace a mislaid umbrella. He had checked at the local Rite Aid and found none. At CVS pharmacy, his choices were amongst just two children's umbrellas, one with a race-car theme, the other a pink princess thing. Recognizing that the ironic charm of the latter would be quickly exhausted, he chose the former.

My very best seasonal wishes to my friends who are reading this. As to the rest of you, I eye you with suspicion. Don't try nothin' funny!

Tricky Treating

Tuesday, 28 October 2008

A man and woman who live in the same apartment complex as do I have a little table that they keep just outside the entrance to their unit.

Last year, as Hallowe'en approached, they decorated the area in front of their apartment, and began leaving a bowl of candy in front of it, unattended, night-and-day. I bought a bag of small Butterfinger bars, and one night surreptitiously added them to the bowl. This act apparently disturbed someone, as the bowl was thereäfter taken-in at night, and returned sometime in the daylight, until Hallowe'en had passed.

In December, they placed a small Christmas tree on the table. Early one morning, I slipped a gift-wrapped large Butterfinger bar under it.

This season, they again put out the Hallowe'en decorations, and the bowl, but they take it in when they retire. I have been carrying-around another bag of small Butterfinger bars, hoping for a chance to add them undetected. But, repeatedly, when I have gone by their unit, the fellow has been sitting near the window, such that he might turn and look at an unfortunate moment.

However, last night, the bowl was out and there seemed no one at the window. I grabbed three or four small bars — more bars would have taken more time — and added them to the bowl. Then I walked on towards the mailboxes. Seconds later, the man came round the corner, returning with their dog from a walk. I greeted the dog by name (I don't know the name of the man), but kept walking.

Perhaps I am now a person of interest in their investigations. In any case, the bowl was not out when I returned late last night.