Smart Shopping In Candyland
If you’ve ever seen a raccoon with its paws submerged in a stream, feeling around for something good to eat, you could picture the woman at Rosauers.
She had both hands dug deep in a mound of plastic bags containing miniature Snickers and Milky Ways. Without even looking down, she felt for freshness - or whatever it is people do in their hands-on search for the perfect Halloween treats.
Now nobody was in panic mode Saturday afternoon. There was still plenty of time to stock up, after all. But over across 29th Avenue, at Safeway, a trillion-calorie display of trick-or-treat candy just inside the east doors got lots of wistful looks.
A toddler riding in a shopping cart thrust out a hand and pointed a fat finger toward the small mountain of Butterfingers, Mounds, Tootsie Rolls, Sweetarts, Skittles, Starburst, Blow Pops and Junior Mints.
The kid seemed all serious and emphatic, like a little explorer who had finally sighted land.
A girl who looked about 15 told her dad what she thought they should buy. She held a hand in front of her mouth as she spoke. Her dad stared at her. Then he placed a hand in front of his mouth and mumbled a stream of nonsense syllables.
The girl didn’t think it was funny.
A woman in a University of Washington sweatshirt gave it all of five seconds before demanding of the man with her, “WHERE are the Three Musketeers?”
A twentysomething guy with long, skinny sideburns and multiple earrings seemed intent on projecting disdain as he stared at the heaps o’ candy. The woman with him appeared to be under the impression that Halloween had already arrived. She was dressed as a dominatrix or something - high leather boots, short shorts, a plunging black top and lots of dark, menacing makeup.
But the young man let his attitude slip when he saw a bunch of 100 Grand bars. “These are good,” he testified in a low voice.
Up on the North Side, at the Safeway at Northwest Boulevard and Ash, the sugary loot was stacked up next to the beer and wine. A friendly store employee named Patty was opening big boxes of candy and forecasting the trick-or-treat turnout. “No school the next day,” she said. “No snow. I say we’re going to get hammered.”
A gray-haired woman nodded and put another bag of Kit Kat bars in her cart.
Across the street, at Albertson’s, 17A is the candy aisle. And four girls who looked about 12 were planning for a Friday night Halloween party that was still almost a week away.
“Do we even need candy?” said the one of them wearing an incredibly short skirt.
The other three just looked at her.
“OK,” said the girl in the skirt. “Dumb question.”
, DataTimes MEMO: Being There is a weekly feature that visits Inland Northwest gatherings.