Jelly Beans

2022-10-30

The compact bag of iridescent nuggets, nestled in between other similar, but inferior, brightly colored corn syrup products, beckoned to me. How could one resist? The generous J and the flourishing Ys of the Jelly Belly logo promised a good old fashioned gourmet flavor popping energy kick.

At some point over the last two decades, I had done the math, measured my life long devotion to chocolate against my checkered dental history and realized that something had to give. Luckily, with aging comes the maturation of one's palette. The insatiable passion for shots of sugary goodness dissipates for the average adult.

But I realized then that my smug self had not been tested in a while. My local grocery store only offered organic produce and knock off premium snacks (the only thing premium about them was the exorbitant mark up).

I walked away from the aisle of vice, and then turned back, equivocating, until the spirit of Halloween took the reins and compelled me to grab a bag.

The first bean that graced my mouth was the perfect bean. The marbled green lightly spackled with brown visually resembled a pretty lima. When my front teeth pressed against the bean lengthwise, I felt shellac giving way to rough sugar crystals. Juicy pear flavor exploded in my mouth. I was shocked by the intimate closeness to, or rather, an improvement on, the voluptuous fruit.

I started popping more of the beans in at a faster frequency.