To the Girl Working at Yogurtland

There's a new yogurt shop that opened up maybe three blocks from my house. It's called Yogurtland, and it's a chain. I went with Justin to one in L.A. That was the trip he fought the transvestite. Don't tell him I told you this, but I'm pretty sure he lost. I have pictures, but in all honesty I photoshopped them a little so they lose credibility. The lighting was really bad.

Anyway, tonight we walked together to Yogurtland. April is gorgeous. I think it is my favorite month. I've even looked ahead on my daily Dilbert calendar - there's some really funny cartoons in the next thirty days! But the temperature is beautiful, and I mean that word. It was like floating in a pool. We floated for three blocks until Justin started smoking. Then it was like hanging out with Uncle Patrick.

The walls of the interior of Yogurtland are tiled with these little one inch by one inch ceramics. Emerson said they looked like seashells, and I think they did. Manufactured sea shells like my dad used to buy when we went to Destin. He used to hide them in the sand and let us find them. I felt betrayed after I learned the truth.

Emerson told me once that his dad used to take him to the beach after church, but they wouldn't talk. They'd just sit there in silence, in like February, with sand in the pockets of their nice khaki pants. Emerson's dad is really cool. I wonder if he would guest blog?

Yogurtland is self serve. You get the yogurt and the toppings yourself and it's priced by weight. And this isn't regular soft serve - Uncle Patrick always calls Dairy Queen yogurt, but it's not. He lives in Arkansas though. I don't worry about him. This yogurt is tart. There's a kick - you need chocolate or berries to even it out.

The cashier at Yogurtland is stunning. She's short - maybe five foot nothing, if she jumps - but oh my goodness she looks like an angel. When we were getting toppings, I asked Justin what he thought of her. He said she was six inches too short. That's right up my alley. I go for the misprints.

I bought my yogurt last. Emerson made some headway for me; he was the warm up conversation. He's an excellent wing man. Justin I think winked at her, which is okay with me, because it makes me look less like a tool. Then I went in, and I said something really funny. I mean, really funny. I remember she laughed very hard. Emerson will attest to this. But I can't remember what I said because the next moment overwhelms that memory. After the initial success, I said, "Have you ever watched Battlestar Galatica?"

Afterwards, I asked for a receipt, hoping she would write her number on it, but she threw it away right in front of me. Maybe she didn't hear.