I shudder when I look at the headlines: Outbreaks of violence, savage brutality. Even the happy environment of a child’s birthday party is shattered by escalating violence.
Sort of makes me want to find my own little Walden Pond. But since that’s not too practical at this stage in life I can at least take steps to ensure my family’s safety and vow to never, ever again step foot into a Chuck E. Cheeses.
Chuck E. Cheeses, (that’s “Hell’s Vestibule” in our home), is in the news for conduct described as “Sheer madness.”
Heck, that’s the way I describe the place without the fist fights or slapping spouses. But like Curious George, I was curious. I pondered why punches were being served up with pizzas and why customers were assaulting one another with the alligator bopping mallets.
I decided to interview the manager of our local Chuck E. Cheeses on the grounds that he not be identified. I’ll refer to him as Mr. C.
Theresa: So tell me. Have you witnessed an increase in violence here in this store?
Mr. C: Uh, what?
This interview was going to be a challenge. I could barely hear him over the gonging and beeping. In the distant one kid was screaming that the Blinky the Clown game cheated him.
Theresa: Violence….have you seen an increase in violence here? I half shouted.
I was feeling a little uncomfortable. Mr. C had one eye off kilter and I wasn’t sure which one to look at when I spoke.
Mr. C: Uh, ummm. Yeah um, like, the other day there was this mom and she got, like, really, really mad…
He twitched a little bit when he spoke.
He continued. Her kid wanted the pepperoni pizza and, like, the kitchen totally screwed up the order and put sausage on it….it like, got really ugly...
About that time, a harried young mother with a party of 15 children approached the counter and I knew our interview was over. A young man (the father?) headed up the rear. He kept clenching and unclenching his hands while admonishing a little boy to “knock it off right now.”
Wow. Maybe I’d be able to witness a melee first hand! Maybe now the Tennessean would put me on their payroll!
About that time Jay appeared. He shouted in my ear, “You said to come in and get you if you weren’t out in ten minutes.”
“But things are just getting good,” I shouted back. Over in the corner, a shoving match was breaking out between a couple of moms. I wasn’t sure what the cause was but a few bawling, red-faced toddlers were pointing at each other.
“We don’t have life insurance on you!” Jay was tugging on my arm, leading me to the door.
Next thing I knew, I was standing outside. My ears were ringing from the silence.
I was on overload. And I hadn’t even drunk any Mountain Dew. (Bleck.)
“What happened in there?” I was bewildered.
As Jay pulled out of the parking lot, I was deep in thought.
“Are there any Chuck E. Cheeses in the Gaza Strip?” I asked.
“I dunno. We might want to look into that,” Jay said.
And we drove home in silence.
Filed under: humor | Tagged: Chuck E Cheeses, violence
Makes me shudder. Chuckie Cheeses that is. Why, once I went there for my nephews birthday, and I’m a telling ya, now I know why he can’t get a job- even at Walmart! He’s been there one to many times. There’s somehting about that place. And to think those parents would resort to violence in the presence if those dear children…they need to be slapped I’m tellin you! (The parents I mean…out behind the woodshed.) If they want to fight they should fight like men I say! Oh, nice blog Theresa.
Harold