August 14, 2014 – Sawyer and I took the Vespa out this afternoon to get a frozen yogurt. There’s a new store in town. It’s self-serve. At first we didn’t understand how it worked, but the lovely assistant behind the counter walked us through the process. First, we selected a heavy-duty paper cup. There were three sizes, small, medium and large. We chose large. Then, we had our pick of twelve delicious flavors. Each flavor station had a handle that once depressed, dispensed a swirling extrusion of dairy delight. If you so desired, you could lower a center lever and create a twist of two different flavors. We were in heaven!
After much deliberation, Sawyer finally pulled the lever on the low-fat peanut butter, but it was impossible for me to settle upon only one. So I pulled every lever, each for two seconds. Our assistant then escorted us to a toppings bar. Sweet mother of mercy! How was one to make a singular choice?!
Sawyer eyeballed the blueberries, gummy worms and granola while I took a small sampling of each. We placed our hefty cups on the scale – (realizing too late that the yogurt would be weighed and not us!)
The total cost for both cups was $53.25. It’s a good thing I had my debit card with me. I could have bought lobster for the entire flock for what it cost two backyard hens to partake in an innocent summertime ritual. I bet Rosemary the dairy cow could make us homemade yogurt, throw in a couple of pinecones, and it wouldn’t cost us a nickel!
“We need to be more selective with our toppings,” Sawyer explained later. We were sitting on the bench in front of the yogurt parlor.
“It’s a trick, I tell you!” I said. “They set it up so your eyes do the buying. How was I supposed to choose between bananas and nonpareils? I can’t pick caramel sauce and ignore the marshmallow! It’s unnatural!”
It took a good ten minutes for us to finish our sweet treats. I had to admit it was delectable.
“I can’t come back here,” I said putting my empty cup into the trash barrel. “I’ll be broke within two weeks. I think it’s back to the ice cream stand for me.”
“It was so delicious,” said Sawyer licking the back of her spoon. “But you’re right. If this becomes a habit we’ll be brewing beer until we’re 90! I wonder if the employees get a discount.”
Now my wheels were spinning.
“What if, instead of working here, we bought ourselves a yogurt company? Then we could have it whenever we pleased and it wouldn’t cost us a penny!”
“We would eat ourselves out of business,” Sawyer laughed.
She had a point. Why must yogurt taste so good?