How I hate Chuck E Cheese.
The only person who asks me to go here is Sophia. And I always say, non-hesitantly, "No." Except for once a year. On her birthday. And today, I pay the piper.
I hate this over-priced, under-delivered, dirty, screamy, loud, worthless place. I do. I would rather just pay $5 for a Little Caesars pizza, shine a bright blinking light in my childrens face for 2 hours, tell them to go run around the house 45 times, then give them a piece of plastic I found on the street as a "prize" then to spend $50 of my hard earned money to do the exact same thing in a confined space with other children.
My favorite part, oh Chuck E, is when you make the children follow you around for 20 minutes every hour to "Cupid Shuffle," then shower them with tickets that they fight over, including the hovering mothers, for prizes that aren't worth the gum on the bottom of my shoe.
How I dread March 24 every year.
But in our day, it was this place.
Well, if this doesn't look like the stuff nightmares are made of, I just don't know what does.
Pray for me as I sit through 2 hours of this tonight.
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