31 Flavors of Irritation

Not sure how many of you visited your neighborhood Baskin Robbins for their (I think annual) 31cent scoop day to benefit local fire departments. We went last year, and waited about a half hour to get our creamy goodness. But since we live in-between two Baskin Robbins (not literally, but equi-distance between two), we decided to try the other today hoping for a shorter line. Turned out to be a bad move. We get there about 6:20PM where a decent line has already formed around the building, significantly longer than the one we stood in the year before. Because I'm a badly fallen creature, I'm already thinking in my mind, "We shoulda went to the to other store." I'm especially nervous because I have to be at an important meeting in Yorba Linda by 7:30PM. I have my doubts we're going to get our ice cream in time, but my wife is confident we will. This is not surprising, she is the one with more faith.

The line inches along, and between my constant glances at my watch and my kids beginning to wear down as the whining cranks up, I'm getting both paranoid and irritated. One of the owners (looks like it's a family-owned franchise) starts to make her way up the line with a cup of gummy bears, asking people to guess how many, with the winner getting a trip to the front of the line. At first this is cute, an attempt to entertain the crowd. But she does this a couple more times, and because we keep losing, it gets old fast, and I get a little peeved, one at myself for guessing incorrectly, but also for all the people being escorted to the front of the line in front of me. Doesn't anyone know I have an important meeting to attend at 7:30PM where we will talk about matters of the kingdom of God and the future of orphans!?

So anyway, we finally near the promised land. We can actually see into the store now from the side window. And it's here that I discover why the line is so freakin' slow - the sight of all these people holding their miniature-sized pink spoons sampling flavors! My God, it's 31 cents! Live a little, take a chance! OK, I get over it. We're almost there. In front of us there are five kids who are together, unsupervised, with no parents, and then it's our turn. Another one of the store owners stands at the door as bouncer/doorman letting people in one party at a time like this is a Hollywood nightclub. At this point it's already past 7:00 PM. But I'm going to make it. Just then, another family with stroller in tow is let in ahead of the family with no parents, winners of yet another guessing game back near the end of the line. Great, just great.

But it gets better. Then some kid in line begins to dance for the gummy bear lady. Gummy lady motions to the doorman to turn up the boom box that is on the chair behind the door. I couldn't make out what she says, but suddenly a handful of kids midway back break out in all form of dance, trying to impress the gummy lady turned judge. After a kid does the worm impressing everyone in line, gummy lady tells the kids they can all go to the front - all nine of them, including their parents!!! So into the store they march, what seemed like at least a dozen of them, in front of the jackson 5, in front of us. I immediately roll my eyes in disbelief, and then look straight at doorman and say to him, "Come on, man, this is ridiculous." A family directly behind us is irritated too, but they're much nicer, easier going, but even they lend their support, "We've been waiting here for 45 minutes," they let doorman know.

But wait, there is still more. I'm not even over the dancing kids getting a scholarship to BR when the next thing you know gummy lady is back asking anyone in line if they can produce a movie ticket from their purse or wallet? Wouldn't you know it, there are five more people who appear out of nowhere who are more happy than they have a right to be at this moment, escorted to the front door. Inside, I'm almost livid now. This is ridiculous. Freakin' unbelievable. It's also 7:15PM. Eventually, doorman lets the jackson 5 in, then us, then the family behind us all before the movie buffs, because, I want to believe, I made a stink about the injustice of waiting so long for ice cream and maybe, looking as miserably as I could muster. Once inside, of course, the other owner is incredibly nice, as is the cashier, as are the firemen who are scooping our ice cream. Once I get to the car, I feel a tinge of regret being such an ass about the whole thing and secretly vowing that I would never frequent this particular BR ever again. I suppose ice cream does have a way of softening you up a bit.

In the end, I do get to my meeting on time, and it goes really well. Later when I get home and begin reflecting on the day, I feel increasingly crummy for being so easily irritated earlier at Baskin Robbins. "Why can't I be more patient, less uptight, a better model parent?" I chide myself. But then I begin writing about it here, begin to recall more clearly why I got so ticked off in the first place. And I have to be honest, after review, I feel more than a little justified. It may not have been pretty, but the way things turned out, including expressing to doorman how unhappy I was with the day's festivities, turns out to be pretty sweet.