Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice.
BEETLE JUICE!?!

By Alex Carrier



Reality bites.

I adore licorice. As a child, I loved taking those twists of black candy, tying them in knots and making them into odd shapes. I could play with this sweet edible and skip the whole “don’t play with your food” lecture. It was candy heaven.

The licorice sweetness turned my lips, teeth, tongue and mouth into a magnificent grossness that left adults disgusted.

Children love to disgust adults. It is power. It is fun.

As a teenager, I added ice cream to my licorice list. In our town, couples often ended dates at the local ice cream parlor.

The parlor served my two favorite flavors. The bubble gum was cold, creamy Bazooka in a bowl. The licorice colored my mouth and everything in it a delectable slate black hue for hours.

I found this most helpful when encouraging unpalatable dates not to me kiss good-night. Eating licorice ice cream rendered my lips ideally – unkissable.

As an adult, I fell for those lovely little bites of licorice deliciously hidden inside white and purple shells of candy goodness.

Which brings me to reality.

I was savoring one of those candy-coated licorice delights while watching the news. As cruel fate would have it, the featured story concerned the use of ground up beetles to add red color to foods. Yech!

Then reality (remember how cruel it can be) reared its ugly head to inform me that my beloved licorice confection (the one in my mouth at that very moment) was colored with ground up beetles. Yech!

What tragedy. Each crunch of candy reverberating through my head sounded like a stepped on beetle. Yech!

I am currently seeking another yummy variation of my licorice love and I have determined that next time reality bites – I am going to bite back!

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© 2006 Virginia Greene