When my husband Adam was in elementary school, he started a contraband franchise of sorts. Deciding that at age nine he needed to start making money to buy baseball cards with, he saw fit start an underground candy business. Everyday when his mother would drive his babysitter home, they would stop at a small grocery store. Adam would run in and get whatever she needed, and then purchase a bit of candy.
He started small, you see. Only selling candy to the people in his class. A few blow pops here and there. However, when he saw the potential for the booming underground candy business, he upped the ante. He began toying with all sorts of candies: Jawbreakers, Snickers, Gum, Gummi Rings, you name it; he had it.
There were none of those nasty cellophane wrapped peppermints. No butterscotches or chewing gum. This wasn’t your grandma’s purse that we’re talking about, it was a serious candy business.
From what I understand, nerds were the gateway candy. It all started with nerds. Eventually, the nerd buyers would get into harder candy like Blueberry blow pops and Cry Babies. Soon, they were hooked on chocolate. Then finally, pushing their limits and hoping for the best, he got them hooked on the good stuff, Bubble Gum. The ultimate no-no in a school full of children. As it was, the price that an elementary school kid would pay for an unscathed piece of bubble gum was matched by no other. It was like heroine for fourth graders.
It was a rule of thumb that you could get the most money out of a child that wasn’t allowed to have any sort of candy at home. They would spend their lunch money on a quick sugary fix and love every minutes of it.
As business continued to grow, it was time for expansion. So he opened small candy franchises in each of the classrooms in his grade. He had one guy in each class that was responsible for selling the candy for him, and the guy selling it would get a cut of the profit or receive their payment in candy. But ultimately, all decisions concerning the candy went back to Adam. Eventually, he had tons of candy and money in circulation at his small elementary school. He was easily bringing home thirty dollars a day, which is big time when you’re nine years old and it’s the 80s.
Business was booming for quite a while, for a year or two, Adam was the candy master of Keavy Elementary. Lunch money for Lemonheads, that was his game. He paid his teacher and employees off with candy. There was a hierarchy to the business, not unlike a mob, and if one of his employees happened to short him money, there were lackeys from his class to give them a stern talking to in the bathroom.
One faithful day, when supply was low and demand was high, Adam’s mother noticed the excessive amounts of candy he was hauling out of the small grocery store. After all, it is kind of strange when a kid is carrying around two large grocery bags filled to the top with sugary sweetness. After being questioned, he had to spill the beans.
As business owners, Adam’s parents were proud of his work ethic and ingenuity. He had set up a successful business with rules and principles. However, they couldn’t knowingly send him to school to illegally sell candy. So they shut it down.
Obviously, when supply was cut, the candy business ended. Many students were left jonesing for a candy buzz that Adam could no longer deliver. Soon after, in the wake of the destruction of his candy empire, Adam began selling wallet-size school pictures of himself to female admirers; which is another story for another day.
Originally published on ShamelesslySassy
