First off, yes, I know this is a delayed post. My behind and I have been a little too busy with a certain class, which may or may not have something to do with circuits, to have the time to update.

Second, this is going to be an awesome post, so get your bodies ready.

So, some of you might recall my slight affinity for candy apples. Well, let’s just say I found one more reason why NYC sucks compared to Ithaca – I had to search two days to find a single legitimate candy apple! I’m not kidding, I wandered the streets of Manhattan until 11pm in search of my precious balls of sugar and had absolutely no luck.

By my food fortune, however, my amazing granny happened upon an ad she saw in the local clippings for Hick’s Nursery – an enormous pumpkin-picking, flower-ogling, Christmas shark-jumping orgy. This was THE place to go for your annual Fall-spirit-booster, and I have many fond memories of it from when I was a lad.

I hadn’t been there since somewhere around third or fourth grade, and I was either eating a candy apple or snapping and becoming an imminent danger to everyone around me, so the decision was easy – I was going to Hicks to continue my search.

(You’ll see the lovely Kaditya Naidu in some of these pictures; she was unfortunate enough to be staying with me during the break. There are only two things you need to understand about her:

1) She LOVES babies

2) She is the coolest French-speaking Indian from a tropical island off the coast of Africa that you will ever meet)

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Sounds like fun, right? Only one problem…

We went to the wrong nursery.

That’s right, the above pictures aren’t from Hicks. We got conned. Duped. Tourist-trapped (in my own backyard!). The real Hicks was located a further 5 minutes down the same road, and I have to wonder if this nursery (which was many orders of magnitude smaller than Hicks) wasn’t strategically placed there in order to deceive and shave some of the traffic from Hicks, because it certainly worked on us.

Although, to be fair, the two workers we met were astoundingly friendly and I really enjoyed talking to them. I don’t regret going there because of those employees, so in the end I can’t complain.

So we did what any hot-blooded American would do; we went back to the real Hicks the very next morning.

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For the record, I never did get my candy apple.

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