I often stop at the Racing Mart on State and Berkshire on my way to and from work-- it's convenient for milk and a candy bar, and they usually have the cheapest gas in town. All the employees seem to be part of the same family.
Months ago I noticed candy cigarettes in the candy rack. At the time I mentioned to one of the clerks that I wished they wouldn't sell them-- sent a bad message to kids; there;s lots of other candy they can make money on, etc. He said he wasn't the store owner and didn't seem able or willing to point me to the person who was really in charge.
Several more times in the past six months I've tried my anti-candy cigarette monologue but the candy remains on the shelves.
Monday I tried once more.
"Who really owns this store?" I asked. "Who makes the decisions."
"The manager is here in the mornings," I was told.
So yesterday morning I stopped at the store early and caught up with the manager, who did not seem unaware of my issue.
"OK," he said, "when this box is gone, I won't order anymore."
"Thanks!" I said, and stuck out my hand. He took it, and we shook.
. When I get paid this week I'll buy a bunch myself, but there are a bit too many for me to take this project on by myself. So help me get rid of the store's current supply. Drop in, buy a box, and tell 'em Michaelann sent you. (Don't want them to think the items are a bigger seller than they are!) Then eat them, crush them, perform whatever exorcism you like.
Down with candy cigarettes!