A David Sedaris Kind of Evening

I just experienced a series of events that felt like they came right out of a David Sedaris essay. So I tried to write it up as he would have, but it reads better if you imagine his voice saying it.

So I took my daughter, along with a friend and her daughter, to see Little House on the Prarie—the Musical. Starring Melissa Gilbert as Ma. It was entertaining, not spectacular, but entertaining. The girl who played Lara looked about 15, but her bio said she has a BFA from Carnegie Melon, so I’m guessing she’s more like 25. She had a powerful voice that made me wonder if she wasn’t the dark-haired love child of Kristen Chenoweth. I’m sure it played well in Peoria, but the whole thing might have been a little more impressive had Ms. Gilbert been as good of a singer as her castmates.

I don't imagine the play will go on to be a classic as none of the songs could be sung independently of the play. Every song's lyrics tied it specifically to the plot line. There was no ballad that could be sung at weddings or funerals. No show stopper that will be picked up next season on an episode of "Glee". No numbers that pageant contestants will be working up for upcoming competitions. Nothing that could have a life of its own.

After the play, we got into my friend’s car and both our children were complaining of hunger in a way that made it sound like they were dying. My response was, “Don’t make me beat you.” But my friend is a kinder and gentler soul, and she suggested we drive through Starbucks. I wondered what kind of coffee her eight-year-old would want, until she asked, "You girls want some cookies?"

I told her that I didn’t think the Starbucks in Little Rock stayed open this late. It was 10:30, but she decided to take her chances in the drive-thru. As she rolled down her window, a cheery male voice came over the speaker. “Thank you for choosing Starbucks. Unfortunately, we’re closed now, but we’ll re-open at 5:30 in the morning.”

What? Did he think we might sit there at the drive-thru until the sun came up and we could score a triple-shot mocha latte? Did he think that we wanted whatever we were going to order so badly that we would be back the moment the doors opened again?

We then went on to McDonalds, which was open and had a four-car line at the drive-thru. This must be where the post-theater crowd hangs out in Little Rock. After asking the girls if they would share a McFlurry and not wanting to drag out the argument over which kind to get, we decided they could each have their own. I was still leaning toward the beating, but I wasn’t driving.

My friend placed the order and the lady told her that the ice cream machine was down. Apparently, the machine automatically shuts off at 11:30 every night so that it is cooled down before the midnight close. It was only 10:30, but the machine had not fallen back last weekend when daylight savings time ended. Perhaps the coffee machine should have called to remind it. I guess there will be no ice cream after 10:30 in downtown until we spring forward again.

So then my friend asked about cookies. The lady said, “We have cookies, but probably not the kind you’re thinking about.” “What kind am I thinking about,” asked my friend. “You probably want those good chocolate chip cookies they have at the Burger King,” said the voice. “but all we got is those boxes with the little cookies.”

“I don’t want cookies,” says one of the kids from the back seat.

“Do you have apple pies?” my friend asks, in what I hope is a last ditch effort.

Yes! They had the pies. Both kids wanted pies. Nobody had to be beaten.