It didn't help that our attempts at placing our first order were hampered by deafening music. So how loud was it? It was so loud that our "server" was forced to yell instructions at us. And if you've been to the Creamistry you know about the abundance of options to consider. Even had this store been as quiet as a bad joke, it would still take contemplation to wade through the complexities of ordering. Add the concert hall music to the equation - it was formidable.
Finally, after neither my daughter or I could hear our server, we kindly asked her if it were possible to lower the volume. She then turned around and shouted at another girl to "turn it down." She also used sign language to emphasize her request.
Unfortunately, girl #2 could not hear what girl #1 was saying, nor could she comprehend her hand gestures. This caused girl #2 to shout back,"WHAT!?" To which girl #1 screamed even louder, "TURN DOWN THE MUSIC!!" Whereupon girl #2 froze and glared at us as if we had just demanded that she clean her bedroom.
Girl #2 then disappeared to the recesses of the back room where she spun the volume knob from an ear-shattering 10 all the way down to a 9. I'm sure she did so while muttering something about the old fart geezer.
Still having the music to contend with, three workers on our left suddenly began the process of making
Regardless, and commotion aside, we at long last managed to place our order.
My daughter ordered mint. I chose chocolate chip mint. Being content with just ice cream, we declined toppings. I did, however, ask if it were possible to drizzle caramel on top, which she was happy to oblige. I then saw a scrumptious looking waffle cup and added it to my order.
In total, we ordered 3 cups: 2 small and 1 mini (for my wife). The total came to (and this NO exaggeration) just under $20. At first I was convinced I heard her incorrectly (as it remained hard to make out words). I handed her a ten dollar bill while shouting that I didn't quite hear her. My daughter then pointed to the glowing total on the register - sure enough, it was $19.39! Gulp.
Had we not worked so hard at placing our order I probably would have otherwise thanked her for her time, apologized for my ignorance, and sheepishly scampered away. However, considering we had put so much effort into understanding and deciding what to order (not to mention honing our lip reading skills), it seemed reckless not to salvage the time we had invested.
My daughter received her ice cream within minutes. Impressed.
However, we were not as lucky with the 2 remaining cups.
I'm not at all sure what was going on, but the vaporous mists emanating from the clamorous buckets made it look like something out a B horror movie. I so wanted to inquire but balked for fear of encouraging yet another shout-fest.
So, we simply waited patiently while nibbling lightly on my daughters creamy mint ice cream. It was delightful!
Eventually, our 2 cups emerged.
First thing I noticed was that either their caramel topping was in short supply or that the word "drizzle" was mistaken for "dismal." I wanted to say something but the music was still booming, and besides, it was a kind afterthought - or so I thought. I later learned I was charged a buck. Mind you, it's not the cost but rather I was not informed a "drizzle" incurred a fee, nor that my cup would receive maybe a farthing's worth.
Secondly, it was evident that my green mint ice cream looked nothing like my daughter's ice cream. While her's was soft and velvety, mine looked chunky and icy. Hmm - interesting.
We quickly exited (oh what joy to our ears), where I could not wait to take my first bite of what was sure to be pure ambrosia. Right? But wait, my tongue and lips groped about frantically for flavor - it was nowhere to be found.
I instantly dug my spoon into my daughter's cup...again, delight. Then back to my cup, and again, nothing but cold paste. What? My daughter also performed a taste test, and then offered an explanation:
"Dad, you ordered the coconut flavor option..," which we later deduced was Creamistry lingo for "tasteless."
Were this not bad enough, my waffle cup was cellophane-thin and rubbery. Awful.
Lastly, we learned that my "chocolate chip" was not an actual ice cream flavor but a topping, which I also paid extra. Go figure.
Long story short, the Creamistry was a colossal disappointment - nonexistent service, uncongenial atmosphere, exorbitant prices, and unexceptional savor.
Sadly, I think we now know the true meaning to Creamistry: it's a "mistry" why anyone would patronize this place just to get creamed.
Mark
©Googtoon - Life • Popular Culture • Politics • Entertainment • Public Figures
