The Chance Interview

To whet your appetite, I sent Carolyn Brinkman off to ask a few questions for JCP News from the star of the series, Chance....

I’ve been sitting in this candy store for an hour waiting for my interview subject to show up, and I’m starting to get peeved. Maybe he couldn’t find it. I could have sworn this used to be an auto parts store, though maybe I’m mixing it up with the building on Clyborn, since obviously this shop is well-established.

First the overwhelming smell of chocolate hit me, and then once I got used to that, the clerk started making espresso—and that overpowered the chocolate smell. Now he’s…what are you doing?

Chance: Making fudge.

Carolyn: Now he’s making fudge. What flavor?

Chance: Marzipan marble. A little trick I learned in Germany.

Carolyn: My God.

Chance: Yes?

Carolyn: The smell—it’s incredible. I’ve already blown my discretionary points on the Black Forest Petit Four. Then you go and make that.

Chance: It feels good to want something, though, don’t you think? It reminds you that you’re alive.

Carolyn: Not really. I think wanting something just feels uncomfortable. So…when will that fudge be ready?

Chance: It needs to set. I’ll put it on sale tomorrow.

Carolyn: Darn.

Chance: Oopsie. I just dropped some on this napkin. It would be such a shame to throw it away.

Carolyn: Oh. My. God. It’s so good.

Chance: Thank you.

Carolyn: So, did you see anyone waiting around here? I’m supposed to meet someone.

Chance: Are you sure you want to go through with it? You don’t strike me as the blind date type.

Carolyn: No, not like that. Wedding ring. See?

Chance: Ah. High school sweethearts.

Carolyn: Well…yes. That’s right. Are you a telepath? Or a clairvoyant?

Chance: Probably. I’ve been called plenty of things in my time.

Carolyn: But you haven’t been tested.

Chance: Every new day brings its own trials and tribulations.

Carolyn: Uh huh. I’m supposed to meet someone named Chance. I figure I’ll give it another half hour or so, then call it a bust.

Chance: And what exactly do you expect to happen,  when you finally meet this “Chance” character?

Carolyn: I’m supposed to interview him.

Chance: Why don’t you practice on me, then, while you’re waiting?

Carolyn: I suppose it would give me something to do other than buying that chocolate-dipped apricot right there that’s calling my name.

Chance: Have you always worried so much about your weight?

Carolyn: I used to be a fat kid.

Chance: Here. I’ll share it with you. Half the calories. So, this high school sweetheart of yours…he’d think less of you if you stopped obsessing about what you eat?

Carolyn: Well, he…I’m sure…look, I don’t want to talk about it.

Chance: Far be it from me to pry. Good, isn’t it? The apricot is so tart and chewy, and it contrasts with the smoothness and sweetness of the chocolate.

Carolyn: Really good.

Chance: This food thing of yours isn’t about food at all, is it?

Carolyn: I thought you weren’t going to pry.

Chance: I thought I could get away with it while you had chocolate in your mouth.

Carolyn: Well, at least you’re honest about it. I have a friend you’d probably…oh, never mind. I never want to be caught in the middle of his melodramatic love life again.

Chance: Intriguing…but I’m sure it really is for the best. I’m not exactly cut out to be half a couple.

Carolyn: How can you know that at this point in your life? You’re so young.

Chance: I’m older than I look.

Carolyn: Not that there’s anything wrong with keeping your own company, but having someone special in your life does make all the ugly things in the world less…brutal.

Chance: Let me make you something to drink. You seem like you could use it.

Carolyn: No espresso. I’ll be up all night.

Chance: You’re wound up tightly enough, I think. Hot chocolate. With a little something extra.

Carolyn: Is that rum?

Chance: You’ll hardly notice it’s there. Trust me. I’m the expert.

Carolyn: I guess one drink wouldn’t hurt.

Chance: I’ll join you in a nip.

Carolyn: Do you always drink straight liquor on the job?

Chance: It does help pass the time…so this interview of yours. Go ahead. I’m game.

Carolyn: I might as well. First question: are you a “people person”?

Chance: I’m not sure. It depends on your definition.

Carolyn: Someone who generally enjoys the company of other people.

Chance: Ah. It depends on the company. Though I do find it preferrable to have an exchange of ideas than to sit there mired in my own thoughts. So…yes. I suppose I am.

Carolyn: Do you regret not having someone special in your life?

Chance: Are you wondering, or is that on your list?

Carolyn: It’s on my list. But I am curious, myself.

Chance: Thoreau said, to regret deeply is to live afresh. I have no idea what it means, but it sounds like so much fun.

Carolyn: I’ll take that as a decline-to-answer, which is totally fine. I do it myself. Here’s another one, then—how did you get your name? And it says you can’t answer that your parents gave it to you.

Chance: That’s probably for the best.

Carolyn: What is your name?

Chance: I’m “Chance,” remember? As to the origin…I liked the idea that it could be a proper noun, a common noun, a verb…even an adjective. So versatile. With both positive and negative connotations. Taking a chance on something—that’s how people tend to spin the word when they’re feeling optimistic. But calling something chancy, that usually means it’s doomed to fail.

Carolyn: Hold on. You really are Chance?

Chance: I never said I wasn’t.

Carolyn: If I’d gone over the questions ahead of time, I suppose I would have figured….

Chance: What’s life without a bit of surprise?

Carolyn: Though you could have said something.

Chance: I’ve said plenty of things.

Carolyn: Chance, Caucasian male…probably Caucasian. Are you?

Chance: I’ve never assumed so.

Carolyn: Pale skin, but something about the bone structure. Possibly mixed race, Hispanic or Asian. Thirty to thirty-five. About 5’10” with a slender build. Black hair. Wearing an apron and houndstooth pants.

Chance: And clogs. Aren’t they ridiculous?

Carolyn: They go with the rest of the uniform, which you wear very well. So. Will you ever hire more help for the shop?

Chance: Never. I’m too much of a perfectionist. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Besides, I enjoy making candy. I think of it as more of a hobby than a job.

Carolyn: All of this chocolate in the display, you made every last piece of it yourself?

Chance: I did.

Carolyn: When do you find time to sleep?

Chance: Sleeping’s highly overrated.

Carolyn: So, which sweet is your favorite?

Chance: I tend to love my most recent creation best. But I do have a special weakness for cherries.

Carolyn: I can tell; the Black Forest Petit Four was totally worth the splurge.

Chance: If you enjoyed that, try this. It’s a butternut topped with an unsweetened tart dried cherry, dipped three times in white chocolate. Which, technically, isn’t chocolate at all, though I don’t hold that technicality against it.

Carolyn: I really shouldn’t, but…wow. Just, wow.

Chance: I wish more people ate their candy here. I so cherish seeing the enraptured looks on your faces when you bite in.

Carolyn: True. But you said it as if you were being sarcastic.

Chance: Did I?

Carolyn: And then you answered a question with a question.

Chance: Actually, it was more of statement, on your end.

Carolyn: I’m guessing you’ve dealt with telepaths before.

Chance: Is that what they call them these days?

Carolyn: Hold on—that clock can’t possibly be right, can it?

Chance: I’m sure it’s midnight somewhere in the world.

Carolyn: Damn, it is. I had no idea I’ve been here this long. I should call Doug…but I don’t want to wake the girls.

Chance: Your husband and daughters are undoubtedly snug in their beds.

Carolyn: One more question—mainly because I’m wondering about it myself—and then I’ve really gotta go. How do you keep your figure, working among all this chocolate?

Chance: Come closer and I’ll whisper it in your ear.

Carolyn: You gay boys are always such shameless flirts. Yow, your hand is freezing.

Chance: Here’s the secret. Most people live by schedules. Time to get up, to go to work, to eat lunch. Time to get married, have kids, get divorced, retire...die. They do everything according to some societal timetable that tells them when they’re supposed to do it. But what if they were to do what they really wanted to do, instead? Go where they want, do what they want, eat what they want?

Carolyn: So that’s what you do? Listen to your body and eat only what you want, when you want it?

Chance: It’s one of the small freedoms I’m allowed.

Carolyn: You make it sound as if you’re under somebody’s thumb. I thought you were the owner of this shop.

Chance: Yes—it’s mine. But we all have to answer to someone, don’t we? Well…I suppose your family is waiting for you, whether they know it or not. Would you like me to walk you to your car?

Carolyn: No, that’s fine. I have a Glock.

Chance: A woman after my own heart.

____

Once I was at my car, I realized I’d forgotten to pay for my hot chocolate. And for that cherry candy—which was so rich I can still taste it a little. But Chance locked the door behind me, and I’m sure he’s halfway home by now. I suppose I’ll need to stop back by tomorrow and settle up. I wonder if any of his chocolate is sugar-free?

Somehow, I doubt it.

This has been Carolyn Brinkman for JCP News…and signing off, I’d like to mention that Chance has been the most pleasant interviewee I’ve dealt with so far. The most truthful, too. And the fact that he plied me with chocolate didn’t hurt, either.

 

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