Adult Candy Stores

I've often referred to liquor stores as adult candy stores. The parallels are uncanny: going there releases an endorphin only found in the rarest of places. Gorging yourself with what you get there can often end in tummy aches or vomit. The plethora of headache inducing goodness stock the shelves in brightly colored rows that can simultaneously be exhilarating and overwhelming. For me, walking down the tequila aisle at Two Bucks reminds me so much of the Jelly Belly aisle at The Candy Store in Parks Mall, I sometimes think I'm twelve years old all over again. But no-- I'm 21.

Perhaps the most uncanny parallel is the effect that candy stores have on your wallet. When I was twelve, I used to shop till I dropped. I'd get dropped off at the mall before my mom went in to work and shop for eight full hours until she came to pick me back up. Along the way, I'd spend hours and hours at The Candy Store (that was the oh so creative name of the candy store, btw) using my hard earned allowance on Jolly Ranchers, Sour Patch Kids and diabetes until I'd reach into my pockets and find that there was nothing left.

And so is the case now my friends. Since that fateful 21st birthday, any spare change I could round up has gone straight into the cash register at Specs (or Riverside Liquor on classless days) in exchange for vodka, rum and puckers sour grape. Some call it excessive. I say I'm just trying to get in touch with my inner child without attracting Chris Hanson or neighborhood watch. And because of the soul searching that's been going on for the past week and half, I have to say... getting in touch with my inner child has never been more fun.