It is the practice of our office to send a box of chocolates every Christmas to County Clerks of Court, Sheriff offices, law firms and relatives. We do it every year. I started just sending it to the County Clerks of Court because years ago, they controlled the scheduling. They all knew who I was and their friendship was helpful if I got caught in a scheduling snafu. Bureaucrats now control the scheduling. I send them Christmas chocolates too, but with little effect.
Just before Christmas I saw that 98-year-old Yvonne was visiting her youngest daughter, Lisa, in California for the holidays and I wanted to send her a box of Widman’s Chippers. I messaged Lisa for her street address but received no response. She had gone totally California.
Anyway, I messaged her for the second time and hoped for the best. I was in Grand Forks to see my mother and went down to Widman’s Candy Store on December 22, 2023. It was packed wall to wall. The weather outside was truly frightful but inside, it was standing room only. We all got in line. On the front wall behind the counter inside, a printed sign clearly stated:
“Free Sample”
It is big and could not be missed when you walked into the store. Upfront, the glass display case is packed with shelves and shelves of candy; 91 different selections. Widman’s is a cheerful place, but what candy store is not at Christmas time.
Well now you’re asking yourselves:
“Tommy Dickson, how do you know there are exactly 91 different selections at Widman’s Candy Store.”
“Well… I know because I was standing in line at the Widman’s Candy store on December 22, 2023.”
And when you are standing in line at the Widman’s Candy store three days before Christmas, you have plenty of time to count each and every one of the 91 different candy selections. As the line receded and customers filled their orders, I inched closer to the front. But after each, and I mean each and every customer paid for their candy and picked up their purchase, they all asked:
“Do I get a free sample?”
People are nothing if not polite in Widman’s Candy store at Christmas time. And each customer received the same polite response.
“Yes. Which one would you like?”
And this is where the entire process bogged down. After learning that the sign was not lying, and they would indeed receive a free sample, each customer looked up and down the display case eyeballing each of the 91 selections. Some actually physically strolled the length of the display case before picking their sample. However, no one complained about the hold-up. We bided our time and bit our lips knowing that soon the choice would be ours.
But I am not a patient man and I just wanted to scream:
“Everyone read the fucking sign! We all get a free selection! You’re not choosing a bride! For Christ’s sakes, be ready when get to the counter!!!”
I am not patient, but I also am not impolite. My lips remained sealed. Anyway, I purchased my box of Chippers for Yvonne and I too dawdled at counter before sheepishly asking that my free sample be a piece of chocolate almond bark.
As I was paying for my purchase, I asked if they did shipping. No, they did not. Instead, they offered to give me a box, and I could make my own arrangements. They even gave me directions to the Post Office. The directions were very confusing and not very helpful. However, a guy behind me volunteered:
“UPS guarantees next day service. Try them. There is a store right across from the hospital on Columbia.”
Fantastic. That is on my way back to my mom’s, and I knew I could find it.
Thank God. Yvonne would get her Chippers before Christmas. Still no word from Lisa. No big surprise there. California to the core. I drove over to the UPS store. It too was packed wall to wall. If Widman’s Candy store was filled with Christmas cheer and holiday mirth, the UPS store was not. The line was actually too long for the store and a few of us late stragglers had to stand outside until somebody left the store. It was cold. It was windy. It was getting dark.
I finally made it inside the store. It was also cold inside, but it was a cold with a more menacing air. However, some good news, I finally got a text from Lisa. She sent me her street address and zip code. Not much small talk or hearty fair in the UPS line…, but slowly I made my way to the counter.
“Hello, my name is Henry. How may I help you.”
“I have a box of candy I would like shipped to my cousin’s house in California.”
“Certainly, name and address.”
“Lisa Cronquist Hazen. Long Beach, California. 909021”
“That will be $11.13.”
“Fine.”
I watched Henry type in the address. Then he said:
“There is no such place.”
“Excuse me?”
“There is no such place in Long Beach with that zip code.”
“I rechecked my phone. I read the zip code slowly and clearly.”
“No, there is no such place. The zip code must be wrong.”
The zip code was wrong. My cousin, Lisa Cronquist does not know her zip code. I now was frantically texting her. The line behind me was growing impatient. This line of people would not be mollified by any single piece of candy. They were cold. They were hungry. They looked like they wanted blood.
And then a little old lady behind me politely asked:
“Young man is there something wrong?”
“Well yes, it appears my cousin in California does not know her own zip code and she won’t return my calls. She is probably sitting on a beach somewhere.”
“Oh my! I heard marijuana is legal in California”
“That’s it, my cousin is sitting on the Long Beach fishing pier getting high.”
“On my, I hope she’s not in a cult.”
Then a younger guy, a very big younger guy behind the little old lady asked:
“What’s the hold-up?”
The little old lady replied:
“His cousin in California is a drug addict, and she doesn’t know where she lives. She’sprobably homeless.”
Mass grumbling started rippling through the line behind me.
“Henry, I think I’ll step out of line until I hear from my cousin. Please remember how long I’ve been in line.”
I left the line and went and stood by wall and waited and waited and waited. Then I noticed that Henry was punching out.
“Henry, where are you going?”
“My shift is done. I am going home. Gary is coming in. I will tell Gary to let you butt in line.”
45 minutes later I was still waiting when I heard from Lisa. She texted:
“Oh, I guessed I typed it wrong. Ha Ha Ha. Here let me try again.”
However, the new guy, Gary, did not get Henry’s message. He did not wave me over and I am too small to butt in line at the UPS store at Christmas time. So, I walked outside and got in the line. Once again, standing in the cold with my box of chocolates for Yvonne.
Slowly but surely, I made my way to counter again. Gary had no clue who I was. I gave him the correct address and reminded him that it was next day service. Gary typed in the correct address and then said:
“That will be $111.13.”
And I said:
“Excuse me?”
“That’ll be $111.13.”
“What? Henry told me it was $11.13.”
“Well, Henry was wrong. Next day service is $111.13.”
“Oh, fuck it, it’s Christmas, let’s do it.”
And so, the Widman’s Chippers were on their way to Yvonne in California. I sure hope she enjoys them. Merry Christmas.
