Supply closet blowjobs – heck, blowjobs in general – are not what I’d generally call “horrible.”
Armed Robbery at Chuck E. Cheese’s.
“I know! Let’s jack up a place filled with wound-up children! It’ll be fun!”
Sounds like good training for Vegas!
Why? Because then it would be palateable to the adults who have to put up with the environment within Chuck E. Cheese’s?
Children’s brithday=adults drinking. Or at least, every kids party I’ve ever been to required at least one or two beers to put up with the little urchins running around whatever venue it happened to be.
Sam
That last paragraph is just sad. It really is.
Do I enjoy watching Dora the Explorer with my kid? Not particularly. The show isn’t prepared for my enjoyment. Do I need alcohol to get through it? Not at all. Do I wish I had a beer to deaden the sound of the music and Dora’s voice? Oh, hell yeah. I don’t need one, though.
CEC is a children’s establishment. It caters to kids. Yeah, it’s loud, the kids go crazy, but have you ever seen a room full of 5 year olds, hopped up on soda and “pizza”, with music and blinking lights in the background, surrounded games designed for some level of roughhousing (the ball pit for example), sit quietly in chairs with their hands folded in their laps?
Me neither. :rolleyes:
Places like that, catering to adults, are called bars, pubs, clubs, etc. World of difference between the two.
If you don’t want to put up with 2-3 hours of it on your kids birthday, then have a bowling party, pool party, or a party at your house. The kiddies seem to enjoy Chuck E. Cheese’s. Unfortunately, they, as well as I, fail to sympathize with your need to have a few beers because it’s a childs party. Also, I don’t want my kid to get hurt, hurt someopne else, or worse, because I wasn’t watching him, I was busy buying my third beer of the afternoon.
Now, before you get the impression that I’m posting on behalf of the WCTU, I have had a couple of beers at my kids parties, too. That’s not what I’m disagreeing with you about. They were at private parties at my house, and I didn’t need “at least one or two beers to put up with the little urchins…” I opened them, but I doubt I finished many, since I had some running around to do as a host and father.
If you’d rather have a few beers than watch your kid enjoy himself at a place specifically targeted towards children, that’s fine. It’s just a shame that not being able to have a drink for 3 hours is such a hardship.
I think I should mention that I am in my 20’s and have no children. I still don’t understand how it’s ok for you to drink beer at private parties at your home but not ok to drink beer in public establishments for private parties, but that’s ok, I don’t want to argue about it.
Most children’s parties I’ve attended had beer for the offering and were at someone’s home, though I still see no reason a CEC’s shouldn’t have beer. But that’s just my opinion.
Sam
Actually, your tea party probably was doomed from the start. They won’t let you in without a kid, at least at the Chuck E. Cheese nearest me. And yes, I speak from experience.
CEC…where to begin?
I started as the prize counter lady. I was a nice prize counter lady. And lost that post because I gave the kids whatever they wanted. Hell, the parents had spent enough money on those damn tokens to buy the stuff fifty times over. The smaller the kid, the bigger the prize I’d give- how many tickets is a little guy going to win playing skeeball? And all the 5 ticket stuff was the right size to choke on.
I was moved to handstamp woman. I stamped hands with blacklight ink so parents and children matched. Not much to say here, except that I, too, glowed. And never got lunchbreaks in eight hour shifts. I was told I could have five minutes off to sit in the back and that I’d have to come right back out again.
Next I was kitchen wench/waitress/clean it, goddam it/mouse from hell. I was the only mouse who couldn’t macarena, and they thought it was cute that I’d disco dance instead. I can’t tell you how many kids I knocked cold with the nose of that costume. Parents would hand me infants and say “hold them closer- closer!”. It’s hard to judge how long the snout really is. Keep in mind that this is summer, I am coiming out of a 90 degree kitchen and getting into a suit which has never been cleaned. Which has been puked on at least twice. Once down the back of the head, once on the inside. I threw my back out in this suit (a result of an injury gained by being knocked over with my bus tub by my manager). This is my one good memory of the place. A little girl took me by the hand and lead me back to my little room, telling everybody that Chucky was sleepy and had to go to bed. She then kissed me on the nose and told me she hoped Chucky felt better soon. I gave that kid a whole fecking roll of tickets.
Being one of the taller/heavier members of the ‘cast’ at least I never had to clean shit out of the sky tubes. I did, however, have to remove underwear and pants from a stall in the ladies’ room. As kitchen wench, I was pelted with rotten dough and tomatoes, immersed up to my elbows in scalding, greasy water and repeatedly burned on the conveyer belt oven. We were told to never throw anything out that wasn’t obviously bad. If we could bake it, cover it, or dust it off so it appeared unharmed or unmolested, it had to be served. The frozen pizza bases were regularly dropped on the floor. Once I was ordered to clean the cake preparation area, walls and all, and I jokingly asked if the health inspector was coming. No, I was told: “The health inspector…he’s my friend. Corporate office is coming”. We cleaned with windex, not bleach, because the manager didn’t like the smell of disinfectant.
Child protective services was called when one of the employees’ younger siblings showed up at the restaurant to inform his brother that he (the younger child) had been kicked out of the house and told not to come back by their mother. True to form, parents arrive to pick up the older sibling and pull away, leaving younger hcild at CEC. We call CPS, and the police show up. My own ride panics, as it is now past 1 in the morning and the police are outside a restaurant in an area not known for its salubriousness. Police take child to the station. AnnaLiv goes home at 2, when her shift was until 12.30. We also had repeated gang fights, and we got to be on a first name basis with many of the good officers of our local police force. One such fight lead to a child being struck in the face by a woman seeking revenge for having had her earring ripped through her ear by another woman. She just grapped the hoop and pulled it straight through. Before it was even over I was heading for the gloves and the bleach for the wall that was spattered.
The closet blowjobs were…well, this one girl had been kicked out of several local highschools, including my own (for lewd behaviour in a history class. She claimed she had poison ivy. How you get it there, I’ll never know. And it’s certainly got to be more painful that she was making it look.) The longest-lived of any of the assistant managers, a woman, opened a supply closet to find said employee down on her knees in front of the general manager, his pants down around his ankles. None of the parties involved lasted much longer. No one did as a slave to the sewer rat. After I left, one of the ex-kitchen guys robbed the place.
bad times, bad times.
It took me a whole year to stop saying “We’re making magic at Chuck E. Cheese’s” when I answered the phone.
AL
Well.
:eek:
Now, there was an education.
As if I didn’t have reason enough to avoid the place already…
A Chuck E. Cheese in Aurora was where Nathan Dunlap killed four employees in 1993.
I think I’d rather hang out at the one that provides blow jobs in the supply closet.
But…but…it would be an EVIL blowjob. From someone who smelled like puke and pizza!
There’s no such thing as an evil blowjob, Anna.
I’m not picky. Most guys aren’t picky.
I love my nephew dearly. He’s now in fourth grade, but back when he was turning four, maybe five, he got a party a CEC. It was at 1:00PM on a Friday afternoon. Aunt Baker was invited, but that was during my work hours. but seeing as it was at the tag end of the work week for me I probably could have easily got the time off. However, Aunt Baker regretfully said “(Nephew)” I’m so sorry, but Aunt Baker has to work then. I’ll make you a real nice cake instead, how would that be?"
I was telling the truth, but I still feel guilty!
Better to feel guilty than to be assaulted and appalled.
Maybe I’m old, but some things are just too damn much.
I guess I will be the lone voice of dissent in the wilderness of blinking lights and tangled vines of tickets. We have always had a very good experience with Chuck E. Cheese Pizza. We’ve not made a habit of going there (maybe once every couple of years), but what few times we have been have included a couple of Birthday parties. The pizza is mediocre, but the salads and sandwiches at the one we visit are decent.
I’m going to attribute this above average experience to the fact that, within the five square mile radius this CEC is located, there are no fewer than 6 pizza/arcade/party places. I think may cut down on the glut of mindless kids.
Of course, it could just be because I keep a tight rein on my kids, and we tend to go at off-peak hours.
Behind the scenes urky-ness are par for the food service course. I know first hand (having waitressed through high school), so I try to put it out of my mind. I could tell you HORROR stories about Western Sizzlin and Shoney’s. Plus, if you don’t like the idea of people having lewd encounters behind the scenes at establishments you visit, I suggest you never go to a hospital. I worked at one of those, too. Total. Den. of. Iniquity.
FB
“I’ll make my own Chuck E. Cheese’s! With blackjack! And hookers! In fact, forget the Chuck E. Cheese’s!”
I am SO glad I no longer know any Chuck E. Cheese aged children. We did endless birthday parties there for years when the Terrible Teen was the Terrible Tot. I am in favor of the place in general - let the children go wild once in a while, who cares, just don’t make me endure it more than once a month. My only problem was I always felt as though I ought to boil my child in bleach after. Nothing like the smell of a hundred running children in a steamy room.
I bet I’ve quoted that line a hundred times since I saw the episode.
Ehh, the first time I went there (I was 10, it was a birthday party for a close friend) I had to go wait in the car because the noise was to much. I was still ill two days later.
Haven’t been back since. Age has nothing to do with is, being somewhat sane does.