My First and Last Day at King’s Homemade Candies

I’m not sure how I landed the job at King’s Homemade Candies on the town square, but there I was, standing behind the ice cream counter in the cutest little smock you ever did see. I felt snazzy, official even. Until the customers arrived.

They were mostly kids, but not the wide-eyed, grateful kind. Oh no. These were sampling savants. Each one wanted to try every flavor like they were conducting a scientific study. I was running out of those tiny plastic spoons, one per sample, per law of King’s Candies and I could feel my smile starting to twitch.

By the time they finally picked something, I gave them what I thought was a very reasonable scoop. After all, they'd already consumed half a pint in samples. Apparently, that made me "stingy." Word must’ve gotten back to management because I was politely moved to the candy-making station in the back.

Let me tell you something I didn’t know: candy starts out as lava. Thick, hot, sticky lava. I was handed some sort of knife-spreader thingy and told to work fast. But by the time I started spreading, the blob had hardened into a solid mass, with the knife stuck inside it.

Now, I didn’t want to get in trouble (again), so I went out back, found a hammer (don’t ask me why they had one), and came back swinging. Chunks of candy went flying like I was cracking geodes at a roadside stand. It looked like an explosion in a sugar factory. I thought maybe they’d appreciate my creativity. They did not.

Next thing I know, I’m moved again. “Can you make sundaes and sodas?” they asked.
“Sure,” I lied.

My first order: a cherry soda with whipped cream. Now in my world, all sodas are called “Coke,” so I guessed, poured in a whole bunch of cherry syrup, added what I hoped was soda, and then grabbed the whipped cream.

Now, I don’t know if that can was broken or possessed, but the stuff came out in spurts. Not clouds. Not swirls. Just dollops of sadness. There was no elegant place left for the cherry, so I tossed it into the glass like a wishing stone. Still counts.

Then came the banana split. Sounds simple. Unless the banana refuses to split. I ended up with something closer to banana mush, which I expertly buried under chocolate syrup, strawberry syrup, pineapple, and that rebellious whipped cream. The jar of nuts slipped and poured a heap right in the middle, so I added a few extra cherries to distract from the chaos.

That was the beginning, and the end, of my career at King’s Homemade Candies.
They didn’t ask me back.

But I did get an ice cream cup on my way out.
A nice scoop. Big one, too.
No cherry though, they were fresh out!

Lesson learned? Life’s sticky, candy is tricky, and sometimes your best tool is blind optimism and a swingin’ hammer!