The adventures of a Florida boy (part 11)

In the 1960s, kids ran as far and wild as their imaginations would take them

ONE OF AN OCCASIONAL SERIES: My boyhood was spent in Florida in the 1960s on an island called Coquina Key. My parents’ waterfront home overlooked a large expanse of Tampa Bay. Back then, parts of the island were undeveloped, which left plenty of room for climbing trees, digging forts in the sand, and swimming in shark-infested waters (though we didn’t give the latter much thought).

This is part 11 of a random and mostly lighthearted series that I might eventually combine into a memoir. I’m telling these stories to the best of my recollection and changing names and physical descriptions just because it seems like the right thing to do.

The giant SweeTART

There is a popular family restaurant in south St. Petersburg, Fla., called Munch’s that has been around for what seems like forever. The locals love it, but so do a lot of others. I went there often when I was growing up. It was only about a 3-mile bike ride from my house. For a quarter, I could get a frosty mug of the most delicious root beer on the planet. For two quarters, I could get two frosty mugs, and so on.

If I was flush that day, I’d add in a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Yow!

The restaurant’s namesake owner, Mr. Munch, has since passed away but back in the late 1960s and early ‘70s, he was almost always there, manning his old-fashioned cash register. I remember him as a kind and generous person beloved by the community.

I have not been to Munch’s for many years, but back then the restaurant had a modest gift store adjacent to the cash register. It sold souvenirs, gift cards, and a variety of sweets. One of the candies, which were usually sold out of a basket on the counter next to the cash register, were giant SweeTARTs. I don’t know if the candy company even sells giant sweet tarts anymore. But back then, they were quite popular. A giant sweet tart was about the size of a hockey puck and took ten minutes to eat. But it was time well spent.

One day …… (don’t all cringeworthy stories start out with “one day”?) …… two of my friends and I came up with a crazy idea. We decided that each of us was going to steal a giant sweet tart from the basket. Who knows why? I wasn’t typically a shoplifter except for stealing the left arms of G.I. Joes. I guess we were intrigued by the thrill and challenge. In other words, we were stupid.

After enjoying a frosty mug of root beer, the three of us went to the gift store and pretended to look around. Our goal was to find an opening when no one was looking, snag one of the sweet tarts, and casually walk out. But the restaurant was busy, per usual, and so a lot of people were milling around the gift shop and also waiting in line at the cash register. Our own milling began to stretch on for a suspiciously long time.

One of my friends saw an opening, grabbed a sweet tart, and walked out the door unscathed. A little while after that, my second friend did the same. I was left alone—with two choices: Complete the heist or leave with my tail between my legs. Being prideful and competitive, the latter was not an option. In a frantic moment, I grabbed a sweet tart and literally ran out the door.

My bike was close by and I jumped on it to make my escape. As I rode away, I looked at the glass door of the restaurant and saw Mr. Munch staring out at me. He didn’t look angry, just a bit puzzled. It was like he was thinking, why would a nice boy like that steal something from me after all the frosty root beers we’ve served him?

My two friends were waiting for me around the corner, but I blew past them like I was on the final leg of the Tour de France. I made it home in record time and hid in my bedroom, expecting the cops to show up at any moment and haul me away in handcuffs.

I don’t think I even ate the giant sweet tart. And if I did, I’m sure I didn’t enjoy it. Even worse, I was terrified to go back to Munch’s after my hideous deed. I lived the next two years of my life without frosty root beers, hamburgers, bacon and eggs, and all the other delicious offerings Munch’s had and still has to offer. All this for something that cost 10 cents.

When I finally did go back, my heart pounded out of my chest. But no one there, including the Mr. Munch, paid me any negative attention. After that, I became a regular again—and joy was restored to the world.

Needless to say, I never stole anything from Munch’s again. But I became one of their very best tippers, paying back that 10-cent loss a thousand times over.

The adventures of a Florida boy — past episodes

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Cover reveal!

Book 2 of my teen adventure fantasy series Dark Circles will debut on Oct. 30 but will be available via discounted preorder for subscribers of Jim Melvin’s Realms of Fantasy on Oct. 23-29. Here, for the first time, is the cover reveal for Do You Believe in Monsters?. I’d love to hear what you think of it!

Do You Believe in Magic? is book 1. It debuted on May 25.

Book 3 will be titled Do You Believe in Miracles? and will debut in February 2024.