So last week we had a nice little game of pick-up at Albermarle (obviously). Since it was mad hot outside we decided to get some slushes and hit up Crystal Lake after. For those of you that don’t know, there’s this candy shop next to Sweet Tomatoes in West Newton. I knew it was bad news from the get-go because nothing good ever happens in West Newton. It’s like the Cleveland of Newton. Anyway, you know that Bank of America on the corner? A police officer yelled at me for selling Monster Jam tickets to some guy from Craigslist. He said something about it being a “Gateway Transaction.” And you know the Dunkies across the street? Smashed the Dyer-mobile into it with Ben and Seth, no big deal. Don’t worry about killing us Mr. Lewis, it’s not like I would go on to write the world’s funniest blog or anything. Not to mention you sent my friend to the hospital with an increased heart rate (I tried to tell Seth it was just adrenaline, but he wouldn’t buy it). But anyway, you see what I’m saying here, that area is just the worst. So it shouldn’t really have surprised me when the guy working there NEEDED 30 MINUTES TO SERVE 4 SLUSHES! He literally would scrape the thing 15 times before he thought he had enough to dispense into the cup. It probably didn’t help that the four of us were all hovering over him, giving him the Papelbon stare-down. I also love how we all ordered the largest size available, even though we could see the damage it was doing to him. In the end, he only filled them up halfway and there was nothing we could do about it.
Flash forward to yesterday when we finish ballin’ and go back to the same store. You can probably imagine the look on Apu’s face when the six of us walk in. Just pure devastation. Like he knew immediately he wouldn’t be jacking off later that night. Jamie goes first and it’s readily apparent that this guy hasn’t been working on his game in the past week. 2 minutes to put the latex gloves on. Another 5 to fill up the cup. Jesus Christ. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Luckily, someone comes up with the genius idea of going to the super market and buying a huge container of Ritchies. We actually drove to the grocery store in the Lake, bought everything we needed, drove back across town to Newton Centre, and I’m willing to bet on Farina’s life that it was the faster of the two options. Then we plopped our asses down on the ground at Crystal Lake and each had about five full cups of watermelon slush. Then went for swim. What a day!
Side note: We all took separate cars on this little adventure. As I’m walking from my car to Crystal Lake, I see Quinn drive by the side-street that we all usually park on. Whatever, maybe he’s going to the next street, or perhaps turning around. But then once we’re all there, we realize that Quinn has the spoons and the cups. We conclude that he definitely messed up and went to the legal side of the lake. Not a big deal. But then we call him and he says he had to stop by his house real quick. Don’t give me that cock and bull story! You thought we were going to swim with the kindergartners. Say what you will about Big Baby, at least he can admit when he fucked up.
