Now, don't get my wrong, I love Chuck E. Cheese. Spending twenty dollars on tokens to earn enough tickets to win something that may cost a 75 cents retail value is my idea of a good day. As much as I am looking forward to spending tomorrow eating cardboard-like pizza and listening to squealing children in a place that smells like a high school wrestling room, I am feeling unbearable pains of nostalgia for somewhere else. That other place is DZ-Discovery Zone.
Yesterday, the kid I baby-sit turned ten. As part of many birthday presents, I gave her the option of spending all day Friday participating in the activity of her choice. I was expecting her to pick a movie or something more mature (as she is in the double digits now). To my surprise, she chose Chuck E. Cheese. Now, don't get my wrong, I love Chuck E. Cheese. Spending twenty dollars on tokens to earn enough tickets to win something that may cost a 75 cents retail value is my idea of a good day. As much as I am looking forward to spending tomorrow eating cardboard-like pizza and listening to squealing children in a place that smells like a high school wrestling room, I am feeling unbearable pains of nostalgia for somewhere else. That other place is DZ-Discovery Zone. Discovery Zone was like Churck E Cheese on steroids. As a child, the building seemed giant. It was what I imagined Heaven was like, complete with ball-pits, bouncy rooms, roller slides, tube slides, climbing walls and sky tubes. There was even a room that was sort of like a giant water-bed. I was sure that if I spent my whole life being good, I'd get to spend eternity surrounded by plastic primary colors. My mom would take my brother, my neighbor and I to DZ and we'd spend hours there. I'm not sure what my mom did while we played, but she certainly never joined us. I suppose eventually we just all got hungry and went to beg for dinner, and that's when she trapped us to go home. I only vaguely remember there being food at DZ, like red fruit punch we'd gulp down so fast we didn't care about getting red stains on our lips. I'm guessing there was also Diet Coke and chocolate, or else I don't think my mother would have brought us there as many times as she did.
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90s Quote of the Week"I can handle this. "Handle" is my middle name. Actually, "handle" is the middle of my first name."
-Chandler, Friends Archives
February 2016
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