Morals left unscathed by trip to X-rated candyland
BY Dave Nordstrand
Following is an update on one of the more comical chapters in Albuquerque’s moral history. If you listened only to one group of righteous picketers in late January, you would have concluded that Candy Lady Jr. and Candy Lady Sr. were doing the devil’s bidding in Old Town. They were purveying, after all, that most wicked of wares, X-rated confiectionery!
I AM HERE TODAY with assurances that, though sales were never higher, the candy ladies pose no threat to the community. That assurance
comes after having spent a Saturday morning at the store a 419 San Felipe St. N.W.
I Even ate some Candy Lady candy. It was good.
My canine teeth did not instantly lengthen and sharpen. I felt no sudden urge to rush into the street and proposition the first woman I met.
Nor was the a delayed reaction. On my way home I was not overcome by an impulse to stop at a dirty movie theater.
IN JANUARY, you will recall, the city notified Diana Davis (the senior candy Lady) and Debbie Dorbandt, her daughter, that their erotic sweets violated
city zoning ordinances. The fuss was soon put to rest when it was discovered the zoning laws did not apply to the X-rated tasties.
Then another fuss. along came 50 members of the North Valley Gospel Church. They marched and picketed in front of the shop, protesting the sale of the candy.
WITH THAT BACKGROUND in mind, I admit to approching the Candy Lady with trepidation. Two pens were at the ready in my breast pocket-to fashion a cross quickly, should the need arise.
“Come right in and sit down,” Mrs. Dorbandt said. “Would you like a chocolate-covered strawberry?”
In exchange for my soul, I wondered?
“How about some peannut crunch, a speciality of the house?” Mrs. Davis said.
HAVING MUNCHED THE CRUNCH and chewed he berry, I was told business had seldom been more brisk. One reason in the publicity the store
received nationally. Paul Harvey picked up on the story. So did WGN-TV in Chicago, one nation’s super-stations and Cable News Network, Ted Turner’s national news service out of Atlanta Playboy ran an item, too.
“The city and the church did for us in a few weeks what it would have taken us 15 years to do,” Mrs. Dorbandt said.
“Oh, rumph, rumph,” I said as I stuffed another chocolate-covered strawberry into my mouth and chased it with a piece of fudge. My dentist would not have been proud of me.
THE CANDY LADIES even have a buyer in Australia. A woman who owns an exclusive supper club in New South Wales calls the Old Town shop trans-Pacific to order erotic sweets. She then serves
them to her customers. It’s just a guess, but the January picketers may have been the victims of a semantic foul-up. They may have seen “X-rated” and seen red. They may have equated the candy store with one of those sleazy, murky X-rated book stores.
THE CANDDY LADY is clean, in fact, well-lighted, fragrant and draws well-dressed, well-behaved customers. Most come in for the sweets displayed behind
the front room glass case, not for the erotic edibles.
A young mother with her baby strapped to her bosom wandered in and bought several pieces for her husband for Father’s Day. The candy of ill repute is kept in the back kitchen on several plastic trays.
Prices range from 30 cents to $25, and there are 30 different forms from which to choose.
“I DON’T FEEL anything is wrong,” Mrs. Dorbandt says. “Things have changed so much. My kids (11 and 3) come in here all the time. My 11-year-old
thinks it’s funny. I’d rather they knew.
“People have fun when they come in here. It brightens their day.”
SHE MAKES A GOOD POINT in her own defense. Most women wouldn’t be dragged into a X-rated book store. But they freely wander in to view her kitchen display.
There they may have viewed such edible erotic sculptures as “the frog,” a tangle of male and female legs, or “AC/DC” (description censored) or “blank-blanks (you fill in the blank-blanks) on a Ritz.”
Now here’s how I look upon all those porno swees after half a day tasting them and seeing how they’re made. They’re a harmless novelty. It’s like any other
candy. When you bite it, it’s got to taste good. That’s the acid, or rather the sugar test.
Your morals are never in danger. Trust me.