a werthers original tale ...

in the late 1980s, i ate werther's originals by the pocket-load. aside from a stash of carefully counted thin mints in my parent's closet, this was the closest thing to junk food in our house, this jar of werther's on top of the stereo.

everyday before school, i'd cram a handful into the tiny pocket of my school uniform before i walked to the bus stop. and i'd suck on them all day long. this sort of oral fixation, i'm sure, was foreshadowing for my life as a camel litist. in fact i actually chain-ate these little butterscotch candies.

i left trails of werther's wrappers and wafted werther's breath. i would suck on them until they were tiny and sharp and i'd impaled the flesh on the roof of my mouth.

once, throughout the course of the day, i became very uncomfortable. something was not sitting right. frankly, i wasn't sitting right. i felt that something was disrupting my nethers. i went to the bathroom, nothing seemed amiss, and proceeded as normal. werther after werther after werther.

i had band practice that day in junior high. musicians from the three private schools gathered in the band room at lourdes on mondays to prepare for bi-yearly band concerts. but seriously. something was wrong and i shifted in my plastic seat while trying to play "stars and stripes forever" on my alto saxophone.

finally, i went back to the bathroom. and there, baked into the folds of my underwear, was a werther's original candy. it must have fallen out of my pocket in the laundry, then attached itself to my drawers while in the drier.

i threw it away and haven't had one since.