One star removed due to Saturday birthdays.
Last summer, we went to the Hop. The door situation is a bit odd. There are two doors not far off from each other. My husband and kids went through the standard door, and I, being a child of a man who loved The Doors, went through the other one. I just like strange stuff. (The doors completely match. I just like to think that it is special because it is less used.)
So I went into a door that went straight to Hell. It was the "Toddler Birthday Tier", in which, well, a toddler is having a birthday.
As my mother had died recently, I could not think straight. People were blocking my access to freedom, and despite recognizing my dilemma, would not move. And some of these people were adults, mind you. A sign stating that this was an area reserved for a birthday party and not a competition in which adults try to casually show off the best tattoos, dreads, or boho clothing further blocked my progress.
I confusedly caught the eye of the nearest, seated adult, who did nothing to ease my discomfort. She just stared at me. I did not turn around and go back through the door. I forged on, repeating "Excuse me", until people begrudgingly moved. (Once, at Rocky's, my breasts and buttocks accidentally moved objects in search of clear passage; society has no idea what I am capable of.)
It happened again when I had to use the bathroom. No passage. You better let the pre-diabetic that just had ten grams of sugar pass in order to pass. It even happened when I left the bathroom! I smiled brightly with five more "excuse me"s that were somewhat accepted and processed. One gentleman stared at me, as he knew what I thought.
I infiltrated enemy territory to the degree that the mom decided to sing "Happy Birthday" while the dad was in line trying to get a scoop of vegan surprise sprout ice cream. Mission successful.
There was another birthday party recently. I had gone through the main entrance this time, so there were no uncomfortable moments. This party was different, though. There were no kids named "Genesis" or "Plum". The vibe was more positive. The mom was polite. There was happiness.
Still, I think that the Hop should nix the parties. The reserved area for parties includes the bathrooms, which makes things difficult and a little awkward. I feel like I am walking into someone's living quarters when I have to use the ladies' room. In other establishments, you notice the action, pass it, and it is out of your bubble- and you are out of their's. I got dirty looks for crashing the former party. Maybe I should make it a profession. I will tell people that my daughter Blake is going against the grain, take the biggest piece of ice cream cake, and scamper off through the door that makes me feel special. read more