Random Candy Memory: Chuckles

My parents have taken me to Barkers, the nasty discounty five-and-dime pre-WalMart store. I hate going here because my neighbor told me a story about a woman who tried on a coat and she felt some pinching. It turned out that the coat was made in some far-off land and had snakes sewn into the lining. Of course I now know this is an urband legend, but it scared the bejezus out of me at the time. Anyhow, there are candy machines in the entrance. I see a package of Chuckles—the rectangular pillow-shaped gum drop candies. Each package has a red (cherry), orange (orange), yellow (lemon), green (lime) and black (licorice). I wonder to myself why anyone would pick Chuckles over another candy, because I really don't like them. I only like the black ones. Why would anyone pick Chuckles when they could have M&Ms or even those dry peanut butter crackers?
Thirty years later, when I get stressed or cold, the Chuckles jingle goes through my mind. “Chuckles, chuckles, C-H-U-C-K-L-E-S. Chuckles. All kinds of Chuckles would you like some? Yes!” I haven’t actually seen a package of Chuckles in years, or maybe it's just that I subconsciously block it from my vision.