A Day in Rat Hell

As a treat for a day of doctor’s visits I thought I would take my daughter to the place she begs to go regularly. Every child’s place to be a kid and every sane parent’s nightmare. For fear of persecution, we will just refer to it as Rat Hell. I think every parent knows to which place I am referring. I really just do not understand the appeal to children. The games are mediocre at best, you have to spend an insane amount of money to win enough tickets to even go to the prize booth, and then the prizes for that insane amount of money aren’t even valuable enough to make it into the selections at your local dollar store. And why is it that the majority of the parents who tend to bring their kids here are the ones that want to pay no attention to them what-so-ever? The majority of the kids run around as if they have been released from a weeks slumber in the dungeon fueled no less by the frozen pizza that costs $20 for them to heat up.

By the time we have eaten our frozen pizza and spent our insane amount of tokens picking out a lovely set of plastic, no lens, purple glasses and a tacky wall walker, I am ready to snatch a knot in the ass of several parents and their kids or head to the nearest bar! Both are viable options. I walk out of Rat Hell trying to straighten my now frazzled look, draw on my sunglasses like a vampire walking out of a cave, and look at my daughter mesmerized by her tacky wall walker. **sigh** Yes, I will be back again.