This Hertel Avenue litter triggered an instant memory flashback:
“Hey Steve-o, here’s a couple bucks. Go to the store and get your ol’man a pack of smokes. Your grandmother, too. And get yourself a candy bar, ok?”
Even at 6 years old, Dad didn’t have to tell me to get him Parliament 100s or Grandma Kools.
There was never a note that I remember… and never a problem– so long as I went around the corner to Quality Food Mart at Seneca and Duerstein, and got the right brand of smokes.
(Tried to buy Marlboro for an uncle once and they literally chased me out of the store. Hahahaha.)