Gobstoppers

For two years following Sarah’s graduation from Trinity, she taught freshmen biology in Rio Grande City, TX, which is about 250 miles due south of San Antonio. Now, I know what you are thinking, “I thought driving 250 miles south of San Antonio would put you in Mexico” and you would be correct. Rio Grande City is pretty much in Mexico; it is as far south as you can be in the United States and not be in Mexico.

I am in Rio Grande City, Texas, USA... Sarah is not.

For two years Sarah and I made the trip. One weekend she would drive up to San Antonio after school on Friday, stay for the weekend, and then drive back down to Rio Grande City on Sunday afternoon. Two weeks later I would drive down to Rio Grande City on Friday afternoon and back to San Antonio on Sunday and so it went.

Four hours is a long time to drive alone in South Texas.

Between the two of us, we have many stories about The Road to Rio Grande City, but today I want to talk about passing the time. Sarah typically used this time to catch up on phone conversations or to memorize Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on CD, while I on the other hand found these drives to be an excellent opportunity to eat as much candy and junk food as I could under the pretense that I was on a mini road-trip. Before the drive, I would stock up on candy and caffeine at the gas station and then make the trip in a sugar-fueled haze. My drug of choice was Mike and Ike, Hot Tamales, Sour Patch Kids and Gobstoppers.

One time, before my drive back to San Antonio, the gas station in Rio Grande City was out of Gobstoppers. For four hours straight I thought of nothing but the Gobstoppers I was denied, and by the time I reached San Antonio, there was nothing I wanted more in the world. Instead of returning to my apartment, I went directly to HEB (which is the grocery store in Texas) and purchased a box of Wonka’s finest.

When I got back in the car, my desire to be home and my desire for sugar were both reaching boiling-point. Instead of either, opening the candy before driving or driving home (a full five minute trip), I decided to attempt to open the candy while driving. Unfortunately, Willy Wonka is delightfully quirky in a decidedly evil way, and there is nothing more “quirky-evil” than packaging colorful candy in a box made steel. It was immediately clear that I was not going to be able to open the box with one hand while driving, so I pulled into another parking space (five spaces away from the space I had just vacated) and set to opening the box with both hands.

Before I could open the candy, there was a knock on the passenger’s window and I had to explain to the HEB parking lot security guard that I was “not having a medical emergency, I just wanted some candy.”

It was then that I realized I had a candy problem.