The Land of Yogurt

So I just moved, as you may or may not know. (But you should if you read this blog as often as I do.) I just found out there's a Yogurtland about 2 blocks away, which is good news and bad news. It's good news because I can eat yogurt every goddamn day now. It's bad because...no...it's just good.

So I walk in and do my routine where I ask for sample cups, but it's a total con because I've already tasted every flavor they have there at least 100 times, and the flavors are only rotated once a month or less. It's not just me; everyone's in on it--the cashier, the customer, and the heavenly yogurt gods who fashion this delicious treat and bestow it upon man. We pretend like we just wanna try a new flavor, but we're really just using the samplers to build miniature froyo dessert cups to steal.

When I go into public places, I try to do as little talking as possible which means I have to do as much pretend sign language as possible. So rather than ask Peter for a sample cup, I demonstrate the proportions of the sample cup using my fingers. Anyone who was watching this transaction probably thinks Peter asked me "how big do you think my penis is? If you get it right, you win a sample cup." I got it right.

Double-ironically, Peter is an Asian guy with THE DEEPEST VOICE YOU HAVE EVER HEARD IN YOUR LIFE. I have a deep voice, but this guy made me tremble in my shoes when he spoke. SAMPLE CUPS ANYONE. Every time this guy spoke, everyone in the Yogurt Land froze. Even the music froze, which made no sense.

The fun didn't stop with Peter and his imaginary penis. I went around and surveyed the different flavors, again, like it was my first time ever in the Yogurt Land. What's this? Vanilla?!? Right then, one of the Yogurt Serfs (toiling in this particular Yogurt Land) comes up to me and says "need any help finding anything?"

Now, if you've been in a Yogurtland, you know that this is no complicated retail store. Ask me in Macy's if I need help finding something. Ask me in Costco if I need help finding something. (Where's the jet engines?) But in Yogurtland, this makes no sense. Yogurtland has 3 things:

Yogurt
Yogurt receptacles
Tools to extract said yogurt from the receptacles

And that's it. They don't sell cellular phone accessories or pet food or board games. There're no sweaters or dishwashers or personalized stationary. It's just a land of yogurt occupied by lords and the serfs who do their bidding. That's it.

Naturally I asked him where the pet food was. In sign language.