Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Chuck E. Cheeses...Where a kid can get a bra.

Did you guys go to Chuck E. Cheeses? Or as I remember it Chucky Cheese's? The Big Green family spent many birthdays throwing skeetballs, wacking the badgers (with our hands), and running excitedly around a stage that held the animatronic band. "Celebrate good times come on! do do-do-do do do do do!"

I wore my party dress and dove into the ballpit all unladylike. I loved Chuck E. Cheeses until something horrible happened. One year, after we were all stuffed with my b
irthday cake, she struck. We were doing presents; I got Barbies, the regular Skippers, and my Auntie Mo handed me her gift. It was a fucking bra. Training bra clearly, but bra nonetheless. I was 8, still to young to wear a bra and I certainly didn't want one. I was mortified.

Editor's note: Chucky's web site showcases their MENU. I've heard rumors of people going to CEC for pizza, like "let's go down to Chuck E's for a slice," but I always though it was a lie. Maybe not. And anyway, David looks like he's having a hell of a time. Way to go champ! Hand me a slice!

1 comment:

  1. My insecurities often keep me from sharing stories such as this...but it is apropos.

    In the summer of 2002, I was a nanny. On the last day of my employment I took the kiddies to CEC for some fun and games...and pizza. This pizza was heaven. I couldn't even tear myself away to help the kids win tickets to get bigger prizes. I could do nothing but stuff my face. I think I ate an entire pie.

    So, yes, Big Green, people do go to CEC for pizza. I dream about going back every day.