Friday, March 22, 2013

Uncle Andy's Dandy Land O' Candy!

Hey kids of all ages, remember when you were little and your favorite thing in the whole world was to pay a visit to Uncle Andy's Dandy Land O' Candy?

"Uncle Andy's? Why, sure I do! I loved going to Uncle Andy's! Candy, as far as the eye could see, any kind you could think of. And the train! He had that wonderful toy train that ran around the entire store. Wow, I haven't thought of that in ages!"

"My goodness, how could I ever forget Uncle Andy's! I would sit for hours and just watch the little toy train make it's way around the store... while eating more than my share of jelly beans, of course. Ha ha!"


"It really was like a magical place; any kind of candy you could think of. And that marvelous little train! I loved that train! Such a delightful childhood memory. I sure do miss good ol' Uncle Andy."

Good news! Uncle Andy is still around and you can step right back into the enchanted days of yesteryear with a visit to Uncle Andy's Dandy Land O' Candy! 


"Yeah, I'm still here, you rat bastards. I mean, the store isn't where it was but it still exists and I still own it. I had to move out of downtown in the 1970's, when it became overrun with junkies, bums and the coloreds. I was in that location for 32 years and since I moved out, it's been six different homo discotheques and burned down twice. All the stores downtown moved to the mall so I did too. I made a go of it there for a while but damn if the same thing that happened downtown didn't happen there too. Mostly in terms of the coloreds. Now, I'm in some non-descript utility warehouse facility out by the highway. It's fine except it's not a place where you're going to find a lot of kids. Obviously, that's not ideal for a good old fashioned candy store. On the other hand, most of my sales are in bulk now so I don't have to bother setting up displays anymore; everything just stays in cardboard boxes, stacked up along the walls. I knew 20 years ago that retirement was a pipe dream and I have bills to pay, so here I am. Honestly, I had hoped I'd be dead by now but I guess God hates me. Every so often, somebody will stop by who used to come in to the store downtown when they were children. They have fat, ugly kids of their own now, and they drag them in here and ask me where the train is, a train I haven't had since some filthy Puerto Rican kid stole the engine just before I moved the hell out of the mall. I'll tell you like I tell them; If you want to look at trains, go down to the goddamn freight yard with the rest of the hobos. Otherwise, unless you're interested in buying a carton of malted milk balls, get the hell out of here and leave me alone, you shit weasels."


"You know, now that I think about it, I remember Uncle Andy usually smelling like whiskey and how he used to warn me and my friends to behave ourselves by showing us a baseball bat he kept behind the counter. And not just a regular baseball bat; this one had nails sticking out of it."


"He was forever sticking his hands down his pants and if he caught you looking at him, he'd mutter something about keeping his shirt tucked in. I was little and naive then but I knew there was something not right about that."


"I stopped in at his store at the old mall once to see if he still had that little toy train. I didn't even touch it but he yelled at me to keep my hands to myself. Then for some reason, he called me a filthy Puerto Rican and came after me with an old baseball bat with nails sticking out of it. On second thought, fuck Uncle Andy. I thought he was dead and I'm sorry to hear that he isn't."

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