Grab a kid with a hand and RUN...there's a puppet orgy going on out back | Mental Poo

Monday, December 10, 2007

Grab a kid with a hand and RUN...there's a puppet orgy going on out back

It’s definitely not the CIA of security.

If you have a're free to go.

I had the pleasure of taking my son, who is 4 years old, to a place that rhymes with “Fluck E. Fleese” this past Friday night (hereafter called “CEC”).

It was kind of a “guy’s night out”, minus the beer, poker, cigars and bathroom humor (my son smokes, but not me).

We were forced out of the house because my daughter happened to be turning 7 years old the very next day, and was hosting a (and I quote) “Diva Party” at the house.

No boys allowed.

What’s a Diva Party?

Well, if you asked me BEFORE I left, I would say that it’s an all-girl party, where the girls do karaoke, dress up like flashy singers, do makeup, etc., etc.

If you were to ask me AFTER the party (where I returned home to view the damage and the video), I would say it was a party where live, multicolored birds with feathers of pink, yellow and blue were exploded using vast amounts of TNT.

Also, a bunch of cute and innocent little girls were dressed up like cheap hookers.

That’s a Diva Party.

Regardless, my son and I left the house before the party started – the plan was dinner, and CEC. He was excited – he LOVES CEC (almost as much as I do), and I was excited for him.

It turns out that CEC, on a Friday night, is a f*cking MADHOUSE.

Crazed kids…running…screaming…releasing a week’s worth of pent-up school frustration running around…crawling in giant tubes…

...all of them shoeless.

I had no idea it would be as busy as it was – when we go, it’s usually on Sunday mornings (surprise! We skip church!) and no one is around.

On Sundays, it’s quiet. We have the place usually all to ourselves.

Not on Fridays.

Fridays at CEC is like attending an Attention Deficit Disorder meeting for children….

...there’s a million of them…

...they’re not medicated…

...and they’re all over the place running at 100 miles per hour.

If you get in their way, just close your eyes and pray the damage to your body isn’t permanent enough to send you into a state of Stephen Hawking.

What made things worse than the crowd, was that I realized two games into the experience, that I couldn’t just let him run around.

He was four.

In as much as I’d like to trust the “security” at CEC, I didn’t dare let him leave my sight.

When I say security, let me paraphrase it by saying that if the child is ROUGHLY the same race as you, then you probably have a good chance of walking out with that kid.

Maybe, that’s even overstating it a bit.

Here’s security at CEC in a nutshell:

1) Upon entering, you’re greeted by a 15-year old girl

2) The girl stamps your hand with some glow-in-the-dark number. You can not read this in visible light.

The idea is that everyone in the party has the same number, and they rotate the number for the next party coming in.

That’s the theory.

I’ve never seen this number rotated.

3) Upon leaving, you wait at the exit door where a different person will let you leave.

4) As the outgoing security check, they hold your hand and try to read this glow-in-the-dark number.

Keep in mind, that the black light is attached 15 feet high above in the ceiling, while every other light in the building is on and blazing full blast with one-thousand watts of power.

The pre-pubescent boy at the door half-heartedly glances at the number (which, to this day, I’ve NEVER seen actually glow completely).

If all the people in your party simply have an ACTUAL HAND ATTACHED TO THEIR ARM, then you’re free to go.

I don’t think that they actually see the numbers, so they just make sure you have a hand that was stamp-able. Good ‘nuff.

They MUST be your kids if all of you have hands.

I think if you lost your hand playing, say, the whack-a-mole game, you’re stuck there.

It’s how they recruit new employees.

Having passed the security check, I noticed the hours of operation on the way out the door.

CEC is open 9 a.m. to 11 p.m.

11 pm.

11 pm??!?!

Who the HELL is at CEC at 11 o’clock at night?!? (FYI - it’s open this late during the week, as well).

Personally, I do NOT want to see the crowd at a CEC at 11 p.m.

I wouldn’t WANT to know the people who consider that a night out on the town.

I wonder what happens at 11 pm.

Now…on the Spice Channel: Fluck E Flees: After Dark.”


Does Fluck E. Fleese come out to greet the kids wearing a red silk smoking jacket surrounded by chickens wearing Victoria’s Secret lingerie?

Is he hammered…carrying a mouse martini (a little blob of “Cabot Cheddar” floating inside)?

Are there other characters there in the back room shooting heroin and playing poker?

I’m picturing a scene from Caligula, but with costumed mascots. Mice…birds….dinosaurs…all high and covered in pizza sauce…orgying it up in the backroom….

The imagination goes crazy when kid-friendly fun goes late-night.

Well…at least mine does.

This is how my mind works. I have no control over it.


As a responsible parent, I will do everything in my power to steer my kids away from the evils of CEC, “After Dark.”

Next time, maybe I’ll let my son stay home and dress up like a hooker.


Unknown said...

What is CEC? I thought it was a food place...but they stamp your hand...interesting...

Anonymous said...

The last time we went to Chuckies a kid got so freaked out by him that he punched him in the nads.

It was a good punch too and I assume he was singing soprano for the rest of the damn week.

A Girl, A Boy, and Me said...

In the city over from us CEC has a seperate "party room" and you have to pay a cover to see a band later at night (not kid friendly,lol).

And CEC sells beer and wine (all day, every day).

Must be a Californian thing.


Anonymous said...

This blog is awesome. Lovely. Nice. Cool. Sveeeeet, ja?


Zexk said...

Ahaha, gold old mental poo

Don't forget my blog!

Zexk said...

Good old mental poo

Don't forget my blog!

Malach the Merciless said...

Ahhh, Malach at one time was a General Manager for Discovery Zone, I know all the ins and outs, tonights blog.

Rahul said...

Everyone is plugging their blog here. Should I do it too? Nah..

Does anyone else hate the CEC band? He never hits the drum! What a shamockery.

The Ponderer said...

I've not read 1 of your entries without laughing my ass off. Sometime soon I'm going to be making an award and I'm pretty sure it's going to land with you. Keep blogging, it's possibly the best blog around.

Diva said...

Sweet Jesus.... after hours nekkid ski ball!!!! Those curtain crawlers better be gettin out of the way.

Polgara said...

Great post lol

Forrest Proper said...

Jesus, I've never been into a CEC, but my mental image of it as a Rugrat Haven is being shattered by tales of bands, late nights and beer.

It sounds more like the basement grunge club 'The Rat' in Boston's old Kenmore Square.

If Chuck E. Cheese married the Dairy Queen, what would their kids be named?

Um, I have no idea, actually, I was wondering...

Tequila Mockingbird said...

i actually got kickedo out of chuck e cheese when i was like 15. they do not take kindly to sexual harassment of the mouse. laaaaaaame

Mike said...

I was dragged to CEC by my buddy. He had two kids and only one of him.

I took his daughter, he took his son, and we made sure that we left with the same kid we went in with. Not an easy task.

That was 3 weeks ago and i'm still exhausted!

zoloft mom said...

i almost got in a fight with that teenager at the door of CEC. i tried to make her show me where my invisible mark was and she couldn't! she swore it was there, but she was just pointing to a spot of nothing on the back of my hand. (so i tried to show her the back of my hand, you know what i mean?!?!) it could have gotten ugly but chuck e. made me leave.

thanks for the link, btw.

Moooooog35 said...

I've never been kicked out of a CEC, Tequila...but now you've given me a goal to shoot for.

Thank you for that.

So now I have two goals:

1) Get kicked out
2) See if they let me leave with another adult.

prin said...

11PM, eh? I think that's for kids (like me at eight years old) who just finished a night of drinking with their mom. *whistles and avoids eye contact*

Luckily, you're a responsible dad. :)

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