Los Angeles, CA – Manny Gonzales started a bike shop on Lincoln Blvd. in Venice Beach, California. He sold the famed beach-style cruisers at rock-bottom prices to locals and tourists.
After a few successful seasons Manny’s Lowriders became a Los Angeles institution. But business was competitive and Manny couldn’t sell enough bikes to turn a profit and, because of his thrifty Latin heritage, he refused to raise his dirt-cheap prices. Things were looking grim for Manny until one day, a Canadian showed up at his door with a gumball machine.
Manny slammed the door on the Canadian, “This is a bike store, not a candy store!”
he yelled through the mail slot.
he yelled through the mail slot.
“This isn’t any ordinary gumball,” the Canadian whispered through the slot. “It’s a Mango-Chili Gumball, the best gumball in the world.”
“I don’t do business with Canadians,” Manny barked as he returned back to the rubber tire he was patching up behind the sales counter. The Canadian dropped a business card through the mail slot.
Well, the recession hit, followed by a long winter and a wet spring. Tourists didn’t arrive until the middle of summer and by then Manny had lost 20 lbs and resigned to sell the bicycle shop and resume his career stocking produce through the night at the local Pavillions. He hated the Pavillions nightshift almost as much as he hated produce—he hated produce. Until one day . . .
While lying on the beach with Tiffany, a woman Manny liked but wasn’t sure if he loved, listening the rustling summer waves, a Mexican man approached Manny, “Mango?”
“I don’t like produce,” Manny said, without lifting his head from the beach towel.
“Sure, we’ll have some mango,” Tiff said.
“I don’t like mango!” Manny barked.
“Have you ever tried it?” she asked.
He didn’t respond.
“We’ll take the mango,” she said.
While she pulled cash from her purse, the Mexican man filled a plastic cup with slices of fresh mango and then doused it with red-hot chili sauce.
“Oh, uh . . .” Tiffany grimaced at the sight of hot sauce but didn’t have the heart to complain to the Mexican man who spent his days tromping through the crowds of people beneath the beating sun. She took the cup of mango but was too afraid to try it.
She set the cup in the sand and stared at it. Manny noticed that she wasn’t eating and asked what was wrong.
“I’m afraid to try it,” she told him. Her reluctance ignited a certain manliness in Manny and he scooped the cup out of the sand and plucked a slice of mango dripping with red hot chili sauce and dangled it over his tongue. Tiff covered her eyes.
When she opened them he still had the mango dangling over his tongue. “Aren’t you going to try it?” she asked.
“Already did,” he said. “This is my second slice.” He dropped the second slice into his mouth and mmmmmd.
“You like it?” she asked naively, grabbing a slice for herself.
“Like it? It’s the best thing to ever grace my taste buds,” Manny said. And with that, his jaw dropped and a chunk of mango landed on the sandy beach. Mango. Chili. The gumballs!
Manny grabbed Althea and the beach towel and ran from the beach back to his bike shop. He found the Canadian’s business card underneath the cash register next to a dusty rubber band and a tails-up penny. He ordered a gumball machine filled with mango chili gumballs and within an hour the Canadian was back on his doorstep.
First the customer bought a gumball, then they bought a new chain for their bike, then they bought some fresh handle bars, then they bought an entire bike for their nephew, then they returned for another gumball. Manny got his first return-customer within a week and, by the end of the summer, his business had doubled and he had enough money to take the bike shop off the market. He was back in business!
Now Manny protects his Mango-Chili Gumball machine like it’s the chicken that lays golden eggs. He takes it home with him at the end of the day and hires low budget security to protect it if he ever leaves town. He eats one in the morning after his cup of coffee and one in the gap between lunch and dinner.
(Manny watches over the mango gumballs)
Manny’s doctor told him, “those chili-mango gumballs saved your life.” Manny agrees. So does Tiff, his new fiance. Happiness floats around Manny’s Canadian gumball machine like a cloud; Manny and Tiff dance to the humming summer breeze, popping each other’s bubbles and laughing their days away.
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