I don't know if it's the pizza, the carpet or the smelly-snot-nosed kids running around like manics, but every time I walk in to Chuck E. Cheese -- no matter what kind of design it may have -- I am instantly transported back to my childhood. And the reason for this quasi-time travel is the damn smell.
As soon as I step foot through those big red doors, a memory hits me in the face like a Mack truck. I'm 7-years old and I'm holding my Dad's hand.
"Can I have some tokens now?" I say, looking up at my father.
"Sure, Son. After we eat our pizza." His big hairy hand squeezes my hand a little tighter as he looks around and surveys all the kids running around.
I always remembered shoving that Goddamn pizza in my face as fast I could so I could hurry up and play Skee-Ball. Man, did I love Skee-Ball.
Today, we took our daughter to CEC (you know, everything has to be hip these days.) and my how things have changed. The CEC that I can still vividly recall in my mind has undergone such a vast transformation -- and maybe it's just my childhood nostalgia turning in to bitterness -- but the place looks cheap now. I'm sure they've sunk a fortune in to remodeling the place, trying to update and modernize the joint. But to me, it's not the same anymore.
I remember when all it took to keep entertained and thrilled was a giant talking mouse (If I really wanna get nostalgic, I actually remember when it was Showbiz Pizza Time, with a giant Bear instead of a talking rat.), now a days, these kids need a blue screen and crazy non-stop videos.
Oh, and if you were wondering, the kid was scared to death of the place. Coincidence? I think not, my anthropomorphic friend.
No comments:
Post a Comment