These felt charmingly old-school. This is a no-frills, slap-a-Halloween-sticker-on-a-product tactic to make a few extra bucks in October. Smooth, Hubba Bubba.
I like these guys. We have Frankenstein. He has lumpy eyebrows. There’s the Mummy, who’s apparently suffering from some hardcore issues. Like doofiness. And a look that says, ddddddddduuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Dracula is my favorite of the trio. Girl, he is fierce. Frank and the Mummy look like dimwitted lackeys, but at least Dracula has something—a menacing look, an energy, a little self-awareness going on.
Bubble Tape appeared on the scene in the early 1990s, and the commercials took an irreverent tone. Bubble Tape was six feet of bubble gum FOR YOU, NOT THEM. Adults could take their three-inch sticks of gum and shove it. The commercial had an uptight principal who just didn’t get it.
“Your principal can’t smile, can’t swim, and can’t rap. He also can’t stand Bubble Tape. Then there was a female bus driver, the same guy playing the principal—in drag—and she/he couldn’t stand Bubble Tape, either. The 90s were kind of weird. And if you’re old enough to remember this commercial, I want to remind you that you are now in the NOT THEM category.
But it looks like the years have toned down Bubble Tape’s wayward teenager disposition. These days, I think Bubble Tape is for small children and nostalgic thirty-year-olds.
Inside, the gum is plain. No gimmicky flavors or tacked-on adjectives involved. No “Wicked Watermelon” or “Ghastly Grape.” Just plain old original flavor. The pink stuff. And just look at the thick layers of sugar in between the rolls. It makes my mouth just want to lay down and submit to the dentist’s lasers and drills.
One thing that sucks is that in order to get to the bubble gum inside, you have to rip through the middle of the monster heads. However, I outsmarted the Bubble Tape container.
Like an eight-year-old girl, I decided to peel the stickers off intact before opening the container. I’ve heard kids today aren’t as sticker crazy as they used to be. Do they even make sticker albums anymore? Well, for the 1980s kids in me—and possibly for the OCD adult as well—I had to preserve the integrity of an awesome sticker.
So, after peeling off the stickers and sticking them to my printer where I can lovingly admire them FOREVER, I’m stuck with eighteen feet of pink bubble gum in little black cases that are no longer Halloweeny. Is this a terrible thing? No. Have I been in worse predicaments? Yes. Like that time I ate a sub and then I smelled like a sub the rest of the day.
I purchased. I peeled. I reviewed. I chewed. But inside of me, I knew there was something left to do. I had this dark temptation. Something I’d always wanted to do. And yet, it seemed wrong. I wanted to unroll the Bubble Tape.
What the hell was stopping me? Some unspoken taboo of Bubble Tape? I could do it. No seriously, I COULD DO IT.
So I did.
I decided to measure it. For science. Were there claims of six feet of gum true? I always suspected they were ripping me off, slighting me.
What I found was shocking. After measuring, I was stunned to find out that Bubble Tape is actually OVER six feet of gum. Six feet is 72 inches, and my gum extended to at least 75 inches. MIND = BLOWN.
Suddenly, I felt emboldened. Energized like I never felt before, and I was ready to take my exploration of Bubble Tape even further. To really push the limits. Holy crap, I was gonna do The Big One. Biting a chunk right out of the middle of the roll.
Oh God, the sugar is burning my throat. My gums feel numb. I gotta repent for this one. Dentist, forgive me. I am at your mercy. I swear I’ll floss.