Or perhaps more appropriate: Hi-Chews: A Shanghai Love Story Gone Wrong.
My romance with the lovely chewy fruity morsels of awesomeness is like a summer romance turned into a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Me being a stalkerish cat with some serious boundary issues. I was introduced to Hi-chews quite by chance on, as fate would have it, my birthday. I had heard of the delectable candy from a few of the other Shanghai Ten, but decided I was too lofty to be taken in by chinese candy. After all, if I can breezily walk past the greats such as candy corn and sour patch kids, what would the Chinese have to offer to tempt me?
But I was a fool. The chance offering by a “friend” forever changed me. “Hey. Want a Hi-Chew?” they said as nonchalantly as if they were offering me a tic-tac, when in fact they were unwittingly handing me my downfall.
Hi-Chews are the crack cocaine of candy, and the chewy little devils know it too. Peering at you from every corner, they are impossible to escape. From western grocery stores to All Days (China’s version of 7-11 despite the fact that they have actual 7-11s here), they are stocked in an array of banana, strawberry, peach, green apple, grape, etc etc. They taunt you until you are powerless to walk away.
And I am beginning to think there may actually be crack in them. My life has become a series of events that revolve around the Hi-Chew experience. If I’m not eating them, all I can think about is when I’ll get my next chance to achieve the state of Hi-Chew induced happiness again. And when I am eating them, I’m pretty sure I black out somewhere in between my first and last piece. Somewhere after the first taste, I lose all control. When I regain consciousness, my first thought is usually along the lines of, “Hey! Who ate all my Hi-Chews!”
It is a sad tale, but certainly a true one. The good news is I’m not alone in my time of need. This plight has hit several of my other english speaking cohorts as well. They report similar experiences of devastation upon misplacing the remains of a pack. Their need to “go on a run” is as great as mine. And I assume they secretly want to kill anyone who asks for one of their fresh new pack just as much as I do. While the future may seem dim now, I hold out hope that we will be able to climb out of this candy wrapper lined black hole and regain control of our lives and spending accounts together. I don’t think I can afford this habit for much longer anyway. Especially not at such ludicrous prices of 3.5 yuan a pack ($0.50 USD).
*Update: Hi-Chews are actually Japanese. I’m still not sure this changes anything.
