I’ve worked at the same company for almost 10 years. For 9 of those years I’ve had to submit an annual budget for my department. Every year, without fail, I request a frozen yogurt machine. Every. Year. Sadly my request never gets pushed through to the final budget that is presented to the Board, but I continue to fight the good fight. Squeaky wheel and all that yada yada.
In November we moved our corporate offices to another part of town (fare thee well up-and-coming hip West Bottoms, hey there vanillaville Lenexa… ugh) and while I wasn’t thrilled about the move for various reasons a high point was, no they didn’t get me my froyo machine– but there IS a frozen yogurt place two blocks from the office. What joy! What bliss! My heart sings!
Knowing the love I have of my oft-discussed frozen yogurt, a friend of mine decided to surprise me with an outing to the frozen yogurt place the other day as a pick-me-up for my current struggles and challenges. It was such a sweet gesture and imagine her surprise when I informed her that I had not, in fact, even been to the frozen yogurt place since we had moved in. Five froyo-free months. She was in disbelief! Now, in fairness, I also had not gone to a frozen yogurt place ever during my 9 year tenure at our previous office, but I talked about my love of the delicacy so much I think people assume I frequent the froyo scene. Nothing could be further from the truth. I’m practically a virgin froyoer.
I don’t know if any of you have been to these new-fangled frozen yogurt places but they are overwhelming to say the least. We walked in and my initial burst of excitement quickly transformed to paralysis. There were SO. MANY. OPTIONS. And not just toppings but also flavors of froyo. Then there’s the question of to swirl or not to swirl. AND, come to find out, kids these days aren’t committing to one base flavor, they’re mixing and matching and creating a blend of froyo before they even attempt the toppings. It was all too much.
I needed a plan of attack. I decided to first peruse the topping bar so I could wrap my head around my choices. Not only are there flavor combinations to consider, but also consistency issues. I mean I love gummy candy, it’s one of my favorite, but it gets too cold and hard in frozen yogurt and ruins the whole experience. And Reese’s Pieces are good, but do you really want that crunch in a frozen yogurt or is it best to visit the original Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup for a more malleable flavor burst? And was I even feeling like candy? There were fruit options as well, perhaps that was my best approach. But before I could make any topping decisions I had to check out the flavors of frozen yogurt for my base.
Holy. Mother. Of. Choice. There were simply too many. I was inundated with options, and having my own issues with commitment there was no way I was going to be able to decide. I couldn’t even narrow it down between fruity base, chololatey base or go with the radical tart offering. IT WAS TOO MUCH.
My friend soon began to recognize I was in crisis.
Michelle: “Um. Have you never been to a place like this before?”
Me: indiscernible grunting sound
Michelle: “Okay, I’m starting to feel bad, I thought this would cheer you up and you always talk about froyo I just sort of thought you would have been here before… Or anyplace for that matter…”
Me: “No, it’s good. I’m really excited. Thank you so much for bringing me… I just need a few minutes to think…”
Clock ticking. Me standing first in front of the frozen yogurt selection, slowly walking down the line, then back, then down again, then pausing in consternation before heading back to the toppings and beginning the same routine. This happened multiple times.
Finally the girl behind the counter nervously chipped in with “M’am, I can give you some samples to try if you think that will help you any?” (Sidebar: I’M A MISS!!)
I quickly raised my hand to stop her, as well as guard my personal space — by this point I was beginning to get that trapped animal look in my eyes– “No, thank you, but I think that would just make the situation worse at this point.”
Cue more pacing, some mumbling. Finally an exasperated exclamation burst forth from me, “You’d think they’d put together a list of suggested recipes or something. I mean, who do they think we are? Do they expect us to just go in blind? This is madness.”
The whole time poor Michelle was torn between feeling bad about my paralyzing indecision and concealing her laughter over how ridiculously serious I was taking my froyo choice. After about ten minutes of hemming and hawwing, pacing and mumbling, calculating and analyzing I finally made my decision — pineapple frozen yogurt.
Michelle: “Ooo, are you going to mix other flavors with it?”
Michelle: “Oh, okay that’s fine, it’s a start. What toppings are you going to put on it?”
Michelle: “Alright. I can see that is what is going to work best for you today. Maybe we can think about coming here more often so you can be a bit more comfortable and maybe, just maybe, on our next trip you can try a topping. Just one.”
Just one? We’ll see. #NoFrogrets
Ah, I must admit I took Zoey and Marlee to just such a place and half much of the same experience. It was just too much. The girls were able to make some choices, after seemingly endless samples. I was exhausted I didn’t get anything. It, quite painfully reminded me ow when we moved back to Denver. Trying to shop at the meda King Soopers just seemed insurmountable with all those aisles and endless options. I walked out and went to the much smaller Safeway across the street. Still large, but no so intimidating. I never went back to King Soopers. Ever