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“What is YOGLI MOGLI?” Tyler asked from beside me on the front seat of the truck. “Is it a Yoga place?”
“No, it’s actually a YOGURT place, but you were close,” I said. And I meant it. She was literally “close” – there’s a yoga place next door. Confusing, I’m sure. I'd love to see what sort of stampede goes on in that Yoga place everytime the UPS guy accidentally delivers candybar toppings instead of yoga mats.
To make it simple just remember, if you’re humorless, fat, sweaty and wearing spandex – you meant to go in the YOGA place, not the YOGURT place; and for the record if you add 6oz of crushed Butterfinger bar to 4oz of 98% fat free yogurt – it’s not fat free anymore, and you're eating "candybar" not "yogurt." Sorry, there’s no such thing as “magic”, and crushing up a candy bar so it can be “sprinkled” doesn’t change anything.
We decided to explore the bounteous goodness of Yogli-Mogli and take to-go cups home for after-dinner dessert with Dad and George (who, in the absence of Mom and Margaret, have taken to eating exclusively red meat at all three meals). The sign on the wall said “self-serve yogurt - $0.36 per ounce” which, to me, sounded reasonable. We filled up our three small pint containers, and sat them on the checkout guy’s electronic scale.
“Hey look we got 2.6lbs of frozen yogurt! I’ve never bought ice-cream by the pound before”, I noted, cheerfully, unaware of the disaster that would shortly befall me. The echo of my happy voice hadn’t yet faded when the miserable imp of an employee chimed in with: “That’ll be $18.63”.
“WHOA HOLY CRAP!!” blurted Tyler, smoothly, spraying a fine mist of pistachio-slobber across the countertop; “DID YOU MIX FLAKES OF SOLID GOLD IN WITH IT?”
He and I stared at each other for a second while Tyler collected herself and I, unable to top that response, simply paid the pimpled extortionist his due. Then, I headed for the door with 2.6lbs of rapidly-melting, 98% fat-free, cultured enzymes and a completely shell-shocked girlfriend in tow. Have never actually suffered "sticker shock" from a frozen dessert before, I believe she actually considered saying “no we don’t really want it anymore”; and I wish she had; because a blog about someone attempting to RETURN frozen yogurt would have been much funnier.
The moral of this story is: Yogli-Mogli is for rich people who can afford to pay for things “by the ounce” (truffles, caviar, and now apparently soft-serve yogurt). I can still get a "Nut-Brown-Crown" at Zestos for $1.99 and feel just as sick afterwards for half the cost; so suck down that Yogli-Mogli, fatso, at least you’re stimulating the economy.
1 comment:
When those of my generation were young there was nothing better than going to the DQ for a Dilly Bar. We always bought them by the dozen because you got 13 instead of 12 that way. When you were all soooo hot and there was no AC in the station wagon, it was a sticky mess by the time you got back home.
The Dilly Bar was 20 cents each and even now when I pass a DQ, I can instantly remember the taste as well as the feel of the chocolate and vanilla running down your arms that will always be a great part of childhood.
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