Gummy Bear Excavation+ White Legging Horror:

My mother has an insatiable sweet tooth. While searching for apartment stuff for most of Saturday afternoon, she told me she was hungry and propositioned that we go to get icecream at Cold Stone Creamery on Southside. I really just wanted to find a restroom so I smiled, nodded, and parked. When I joined her at the counter she had selected some sweet cream mash-in with coconut and strawberries, a legitimately good tasting arrangement. While mildly interested in the concept of unnecessary sugar consumption, I wasn't all that into dessert arranging. I scanned the cornucopia of options and really had no idea of what I wanted. My eye caught something entirely strange and I remembered "Never marry a Mexican" from the Scriber Anthology. "Um...This is going to be a kind of weird request...but, Can I have Chocolate Cake Batter Icecream with Gummy Bears?" For the sake of the scene, let me let you in on the fact that I don't particularly enjoy gummy bears. They're alright but they don't satisfy my sugar fix and chewy isn't really my texture. I just wanted to see what the little bear bodies would look like buried in the chocolate. Like drowning teddy grahams in milk, it was burying bears in the cold. (we're into inanimate bear torture around here.)

i sat down with this loaded waffle cone and a spoon and poked at the little blobs of brightly colored gelatinous mass sticking up on top. I probably ate a few of them, but gummy bears get very stiff when exposed to cold. It became a game for me. Instead of eating my treat as one typically would, I would uncover a bear until I could see a distinct head or leg, pull it out of the cone, suck off any clinging icecream, and then line it up on a napkin.

I ended up with quite a collection. My mom laughed at me when I rearranged the sticky boogers in pyramid format. I tried to avoid the guy who scooped my dessert. Seems insulting to disassemble something he took the careful time to smush together evenly on a slab.

I took these pictures with my camera phone and I am blown away with how clear the images turned out. With the outside light, the half melty gummy bears were really glowy and bright. Beautiful.
Anthony brought up that it was weird that I ordered something not for it's taste value, it's main function, but for a purely visual experience. It was neat.

And, on a separate note, this was a Walmart Adventure gone strange. It reminded me of that "People of Walmart" blog page. We got behind this woman and who I assume was her youngest daughter (she was probably 15, but sort of short for that age.) The girl had a shirt on that said "look but don't touch!" in big letters. I couldn't really imagine anyone doing either...but that's a different story. My opinion on graphic tees is not the issue here. We stood behind them and while unloading the cart, the mom pulls stuff away and ends up knocking the girl's Mcdonald's Orange Soda backwards off onto the floor. "Oh shoot. Well Ma-ma (which i assumed was a pet name) I'll get ya another one." The drink made a pretty sizable puddle. The girl behind the counter had a look of "oh...." on her face when she realized she was going to have to mop the stuff up. The mother did not apologize to the cashier for causing the mess. The poor girl used half of an industrial roll of paper towels to soak up the liquid. (somewhere in the middle, the daughter ran back over to the Mcdonald's and got a refill.) The cashier used a plastic bag to gather up the mound of now orange towels. She coated her hands in sanitizer when she got back up to her post. I wonder if that helped the stickiness. So overtaken by the action involved, I hadn't really absorbed the appearance of the mother. She had a sizeable "landing stripe" of gray growing in at her roots. We're talkin a good inch and half from her scalp. She had the front of her hair pulled up with a red scrunchy that matched her blouse. It had a peasant shape and a ruffle on the bottom. It may have hit her at the hips length-wise. Under this she wore WHITE FOOTLESS LEGGINGS WITH LACE TRIM, through which you could see her black bikini-cut UNDERWEAR. I took a photo. Couldn't stop myself. One should NEVER wear leggings on their own. They are called "leggings"...not "pants." It's different! The cashier smirked at almost everything that came from the two after that point. She sent me a sympathetic look after they left, which I returned. People are strange.