My First Dance (& Other Tales from Highschool)

In Which I Sell Candy and Become a Capitalist Monster

You know, I never really understood how capitalism or socialism or anything like that worked until fall break came along. It's something we should really learn about more in school, but I guess that's not the point. This is the story about how I (momentarily) became a capitalist monster.

During Thanksgiving break, our school decided to put together a fundraiser for the gymnasium. Our basketball hoops were kind of torn up and a lot of other stuff needed updated, so what better way to get the funds than working your students? It wasn't all bad, though. The top donors got prizes and so I felt like that was a fair trade. Especially considering one of the prizes was an electric scooter. I'd always wanted an electric scooter! I mentioned it to my parents around the holidays in passing, but it never seemed to make its way in a gift box. It probably had something to do with the time I wrecked my skateboard into our neighbor's fence, but that was like, two years ago! I could totally handle an electric scooter now that I was in highschool.

I don't think my parents agreed, but now, all of that concern was wiped right away. If my parents weren't going to buy me one, I was going to win this one myself. They wouldn't make me take it back if I put in the work to get it. Besides, this was one of the real fancy ones. It lit up in the dark and had an awesome design. Nobody could've possibly wanted that scooter more than I did, no one. And so my heart was set.

I started my marketing immediately. If I was going to get the upper hand on the rest of my classmates, I needed to be as fast as possible. I asked my parents if they could drive me around town putting up notices with our phone number, but they said that was "too much" and "an invasion of our family privacy" so I settled for going door-to-door instead. I always thought that door-to-door salesmen were kind of lazy, since they just go around pressuring you to buy their silly products. But when I had to walk around that neighborhood and pitch a sale for candy bars, I realized how hard they actually worked. You had to really get into those people's heads if you wanted them to give you money.

Luckily for me, my neighborhood is filled with a bunch of families, so the parents were easy to convince. After all, what person doesn't want to give in when their child hears the word candy and starts begging? It's the only way they'd ever satiate their little gremlin's sugar teeth. You can't stop a kid from bugging you once they hear you have the opportunity to get them candy. I was raking in money left and right!

While I was out of the house, my parents were making posts on their social media. I had a lot of distant relatives that I never even talked to, but for some reason, those people seemed to like me. They wanted to support my adventure into marketing. My great uncle even offered to come down and help me make a commercial or something, but my parents said that was unnecessary. I would've liked to be part of a commercial, but I guess it was a little over the top for a school fundraiser. Now that I mention it, I'm not even sure if it'd be legal.

I got back before sunset and started counting up my order forms. In the first day of break alone, I had more than enough to qualify for some of the top prizes, but I wasn't done there. I wanted to make sure I got that scooter. Besides, it'd only been a day. How could I project myself as a good businesswoman if I only worked for one day in the field? I knew I could do better than that, and I would.

I spent the following week working my butt off. I got so many order forms that my mom got me a binder just so they wouldn't be floating all over the house. People all over town knew me as the girl who was selling candy; I don't know if they even knew it was for my school! I was able to get a plethora of people to order right there on the spot, but other times, I managed to get call-ins from people who'd been referred my way. Kids ordered, teens ordered, grown ups ordered. There wasn't any demographic that didn't fall into my tasty candy marketing trap! There was no way anybody at my school was going to sell more product than me, that was for sure.

Finally, the end of Thanksgiving break came around, and with it, the end of the fundraising opportunity. I came into school with an optimistic outlook. I knew there was no way I hadn't earned that scooter. An assembly was called during homeroom, and all of us went down to the auditorium to be seated. One by one, we were called up, and our order forms were counted. The look on my principal's face when I handed in my binder was pretty hilarious, but she seemed pretty appreciative of all my hard work earning money that would go to the school. In exchange for my forms, she handed me a ticket each. By the time everyone was done, I had the most tickets out of everyone, but that was to be expected.

Everyone who had orders above a certain amount of money got a $10 giftcard to the local pizzeria. My order far exceeded that number, and I was happy to get the giftcard, even if it wasn't the main prize I was looking for. I liked going out for pizza as much as any other kid. It was just another cherry on top of this whole adventure.

The teachers then let us go up to the prize counter and put in our tickets into glass jars in front of the prize we wanted a chance to get. There was a movie player, a karaoke machine, and the one and only scooter. I'm sure you know where all my tickets went by now. Then, they called the winners. A guy I didn't recognize got the movie player. Vick got the karaoke machine. I crossed my fingers and my toes as they called the winner of the scooter, even though I was almost positive I'd be the one to get it. I mean, nobody had nearly the amount of tickets I had!

But then my nightmare came true. The name that came out of the principal's mouth was not mine but one of some other girl from my science class. She'd only gotten three tickets, but she'd somehow managed to end up on top, despite all the probability leaning in my favor. My dreams of a scooter were crushed.

I hate to admit it, but when I came home that day, I went to my room and I cried. I'd done so much work; I'd spent my entire Thanksgiving break making deals with strangers and marketing my candy. I couldn't help but feel like everything was wasted, and now I had to spend even more time making deliveries when I was already exhausted from the previous week. Not to mention I didn't even get what I was hoping for. I wanted to break that stupid giftcard in half, but I knew that wasn't the right thing to do, so I just stayed in my bed for the rest of the night.

The next morning, breakfast was waiting for me on the table. My mom made scrambled eggs, just the way I liked them. While we ate together, we had a real long talk. She told me how she and my dad were proud of me for working so hard, but that I needed to realize that I shouldn't put a business, or any goal, ahead of everything else. There was too much in life to enjoy. Plus, it was okay to be disappointed, but I shouldn't let it ruin my fun. I couldn't help but agree. My dad came to pick me up for my visit with him soon after, and when I came out, he told me he had a surprise waiting. I had no idea what it could be. Maybe he picked up my favorite icecream to cheer me up? That would've been really nice of him. When I rounded to the other side of the car, I couldn't help but let out a scream. There was a brand-new electric scooter, just like I wanted. So much better than icecream.