Way back in the day the 9-530 crew at work was awesome. It consisted of me, Kaleb, Jimmy, and Timmy.
One night close to Christmas we clocked out together and headed to the shuttle. On the way we passed a certain department. The custodians had left a dumpster outside the department, and they had discarded a large, gold box of chocolates.
Before I continue, let me quantify the word ‘large.’ One thing that drives me crazy is when I go to the store to pick something up for my wife and she says she needs something, like say, ‘a large can of green beans.’
“How big is large? 10 oz? 14 oz? 28 oz?”
“You know, one of the big ones.”
“No, I don’t know. That’s why I asked .”
“Just get me two big ones.”
So when I say they discarded a large box of chocolates, what I mean is that the box was something like 1.5 x 2.5 feet.
But it had the look of that cheap, waxy, off-brand chocolate they market around the holidays to poor saps in search of a last-minute gift for someone they barely know but don’t want to appear cheap or rude.
We all stared at it with a mixture of piqued curiosity, disdain, and then, suddenly, a wee bit of peckishness.
The box was just sitting there, completely sealed and unopened.
We all decided to try it, making a pact never to reveal that we had eaten chocolate that was found in a dumpster (and we never did). We quickly looked around, grabbed one piece apiece, and hopped on the shuttle to try our newly acquired waxy candy.
As we all agreed later, that was probably the best chocolate we had had in our entire lives. But then we were in a dilemma: how to drive back up to work, go past the security checkpoint, surreptitiously remove the world’s biggest gold box of chocolate and transport it back to the car (or cars).
Now every time it gets close to Christmas and I walk past that department, I long for dumpster chocolate.
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