Backstory: Last Christmas, my mom gave me ‘Brandy Chocolates’ as a stocking-stuffer present, thinking I would love alcoholic chocolate. She was wrong. Brandy has never been a favorite of mine, so after eating one chocolate I decided I was going to give them away to my friend at school who loves Brandy. Fast forward nine months – I still haven’t given them to my friend because I keep forgetting. So when I finally moved out of my last official apartment in Vancouver, I threw the Brandy Chocolates into one of my bags in anticipation of eventually actually remembering to give them to my friend.
From September 1st to 5th, I didn’t have an apartment, so I decided to keep my luggage (literally luggage – 5 years of my life is packed into 3 suitcases, 2 duffel bags, and 2 backpacks currently) on the porch of one of my good friend’s house. And since my friend’s landlord is remodeling her house, I threw two old blankets I took from a Cathay Pacific flight years ago over the bags to keep them from getting dust and dirt on them.
Story: Friday night. I’m suppose to go out to a party with friends, but in true Lena-esc style, I found out the party was outside and bailed because, dear lord, Canada is too cold to ever have a party outside. Instead, I went over to my friend’s apartment where I was keeping my stuff to reorganize my bags before my flight home for my cousin’s wedding next week. And, being the lazy person I am, I ended up sleeping over at her place once I found out she was away for the night and I could sleep in her extremely comfy full-sized bed (my bed for the past 5 years is a twin, I take any chance I get to sleep in a bigger bed).
The next morning, I was running late to brunch with a friend and rushed out the door to notice the blankets weren’t on my suitcases anymore – strange. Looking closer, I realized one of my suitcases had been unzipped, the Brandy Beans pulled to the top of the bag, and the package clawed through. But there was only one chocolate-brandy bean missing and it was laying on the ground next to my bag with just the top eaten. My conclusion – something got into my bag, ate a bean, hated it (like I had) and left. Funniest part? I found out later from my friend’s roommate that she had witnessed the entire thing.
It turns out, the night before she had tried to go outside to smoke, but when she opened the door a giant raccoon was starring back at her. She screamed, slammed the door, and immediately called my friend (she didn’t realize I was sleeping in the next room). For the next 30 minutes-hour, she was freaking out over the phone trying to scare this raccoon away as it scouted out the inside of my bag and scared the living hell out of her. Once the raccoon had finally found the delicious chocolate: it had smelled; it took one bite; realized the bean had alcohol in it; and, instead of eating more, dropped the chocolate, pooped on the porch and scurried away.
The second, and most hilarious part – the raccoon didn’t scratch through my bag or tear apart the blankets. It carefully pulled off both blankets, placed them in a pile next to my bags, unzipped my luggage, and got to the chocolates without destroying anything else in the bag. The only evidence that even suggested the raccoon had been there was: a) the scratched through chocolate box (I’m assuming it couldn’t figure out how to remove the plastic wrap I had placed around it); b) the raccoon poop on the porch; and, c) the eye-witness account.
Brandy chocolate beans get a -500, ’cause even raccoons won’t eat them!
UPDATE: I am home for a week for my cousin’s wedding, and once again – mom tried to feed me Brandy Beans. I promptly directed her to this story (dad apparently never showed it to her), to which she responded: Haha. By the way, you made grammar errors, can I fix them? -Cue 30min of my mom editting the entire story. Why it took so long? I have no idea. I didn’t think my grammar was that bad-