It makes perfect sense to me
I work hard. My friend Jennifer works hard. Sometimes we need to engage in daytime activities that are fulfilling to US and so we decided to haul all 5 of our offspring, along with ourselves, into a mini van for a slice of pie. Not just any pie but Sakonet River Pie in Tiverton, Rhode Island.
Only it took us 2 hours to get there - we got lost. And after finally arriving and stepping inside the building we realized that this pie company conducted business in a 8x4 room where I would more expect to find coats hanging than business conducting. To be kind let's call it a "pie foyer" with an elegant pie man standing behind a pie counter with only one peach rasberry pie left. And this pie foyer was wedged, quite tightly in between 2 boutique shops.
So there we stood. 7 people, with a collective age of 95... just having been released from vehicular captivity, 5 of us with restless limbs flailing, conveniently wedged between 2 boutique shops filled with delicate breakables, pristine people and watchful shopkeepers. I looked to my left and locked eyes with owner of boutique #1, a fairly delicate lady with a flower shirt dress, hoop earings and pointy toed shoes. I looked to my right and locked eyes with the owner of boutique #2, a cautious sort dressed in a smart looking pant suit. I looked squarely in front of me, locking eyes with the pie man dressed like Chef Ramsey from Hells Kitchen. The one thing all of these individuals had in common was a look of fear and horror as if we were just about to launch a campain of shock and horror upon them. We were a rather unkempt tribe with wardrobes in various stages of failure (untied shoes, stained garments and a thin film of cream cheese residue from the Dunkin Donuts snack that we had used to help the medicine of a 2 hour car ride go down.)
So we did the only thing we could to bring a manner of peace back into their eyes. Quick as 2 shakes of a lambs tail, Jennifer ran from the building taunting "I'll race you to the nearest mental facility or store with juice boxes, narcotics and more than 50sf of retail space!" (At least that's what I heard in my mind). Sure enough, off the children went leaving me in the pie foyer with the pie man. I purchased the raspberry peach pie and 7 chocolate chip cookies at 2 bucks a pop, which they also sell in Nordstroms by the way. This was top shelf. Curious that they conduct business in a foyer. Curious that they don't indicate on their website that they conduct business in a foyer - important information for optimistic women planning adult friendly playdates. I guess they didn't factor in our scenario when setting up the copy on their website. I'm going to check back tomorrow for any changes, along the lines of: "CAUTION: WE ARE CONDUCTING BUSINESS IN WHAT USED TO BE THE COAT CLOSET BETWEEN 2 BOUTIQUE SHOPS."
After backing slowly out of the building with my pie and cookies, I found Jennifer outside in the pouring rain, playing hide and seek with the children, in the garden behind the building where they set up shops in rooms previously allocated for coats. We carried on in the rain eating cookies, playing and peeing in bushes for about an hour or a day depending on your perspective. Then we brought our sullied, wet selves back to the minivan and came home. Max you were QUITE dissapointed and cried over and over again that 'THIS WAS NOT A PLAYDATE!'. Yes mommy failed you today.
And because I have a chemical imbalance I'd do it all over again.
The pie was THAT good.
Only it took us 2 hours to get there - we got lost. And after finally arriving and stepping inside the building we realized that this pie company conducted business in a 8x4 room where I would more expect to find coats hanging than business conducting. To be kind let's call it a "pie foyer" with an elegant pie man standing behind a pie counter with only one peach rasberry pie left. And this pie foyer was wedged, quite tightly in between 2 boutique shops.
So there we stood. 7 people, with a collective age of 95... just having been released from vehicular captivity, 5 of us with restless limbs flailing, conveniently wedged between 2 boutique shops filled with delicate breakables, pristine people and watchful shopkeepers. I looked to my left and locked eyes with owner of boutique #1, a fairly delicate lady with a flower shirt dress, hoop earings and pointy toed shoes. I looked to my right and locked eyes with the owner of boutique #2, a cautious sort dressed in a smart looking pant suit. I looked squarely in front of me, locking eyes with the pie man dressed like Chef Ramsey from Hells Kitchen. The one thing all of these individuals had in common was a look of fear and horror as if we were just about to launch a campain of shock and horror upon them. We were a rather unkempt tribe with wardrobes in various stages of failure (untied shoes, stained garments and a thin film of cream cheese residue from the Dunkin Donuts snack that we had used to help the medicine of a 2 hour car ride go down.)
So we did the only thing we could to bring a manner of peace back into their eyes. Quick as 2 shakes of a lambs tail, Jennifer ran from the building taunting "I'll race you to the nearest mental facility or store with juice boxes, narcotics and more than 50sf of retail space!" (At least that's what I heard in my mind). Sure enough, off the children went leaving me in the pie foyer with the pie man. I purchased the raspberry peach pie and 7 chocolate chip cookies at 2 bucks a pop, which they also sell in Nordstroms by the way. This was top shelf. Curious that they conduct business in a foyer. Curious that they don't indicate on their website that they conduct business in a foyer - important information for optimistic women planning adult friendly playdates. I guess they didn't factor in our scenario when setting up the copy on their website. I'm going to check back tomorrow for any changes, along the lines of: "CAUTION: WE ARE CONDUCTING BUSINESS IN WHAT USED TO BE THE COAT CLOSET BETWEEN 2 BOUTIQUE SHOPS."
After backing slowly out of the building with my pie and cookies, I found Jennifer outside in the pouring rain, playing hide and seek with the children, in the garden behind the building where they set up shops in rooms previously allocated for coats. We carried on in the rain eating cookies, playing and peeing in bushes for about an hour or a day depending on your perspective. Then we brought our sullied, wet selves back to the minivan and came home. Max you were QUITE dissapointed and cried over and over again that 'THIS WAS NOT A PLAYDATE!'. Yes mommy failed you today.
And because I have a chemical imbalance I'd do it all over again.
The pie was THAT good.
3 Comments:
O.K. I think I pittled. You're a riot K! How wonderful is a day spent in the rain, wet wee ones and unfulfilled dreams of those wee ones...priceless! The gift here is that you got to hang out with a very good friend and her little bugs ( Miss Jennifer - Oh so the shit and Oh so knowledgeable on how to distract the raving loonies ).
Ahh...my twin...so glad you would choose this again ; ). Love It!
LOL, this so sounds like something my friends and I would do with our kids. Sometimes you can't win and just have to make the best of it, right?
I agree! Making the best of it is the only way to go!
H.K.
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