I'm just sayin'...: Pop Corn

The I'm Just Sayin' Shuttle Service took an excruciatingly long commute to the South East Bay last night for an exceptionally entertaining night in a cornfield maze.

Participants were Alert Reader Paul Day, his BF Fred, Shilpa, Barney, and me. Barney was quite keen to go as—as I was unable to report earlier—he will be leaving us and returning to his native New Zealand in a few weeks’ time. And this is such an American thing to do, and he does love his “American Adventures.”

While there was lots of fun scaring each other and strangers, it was not a "haunted farm" with spooky sets or ghosts. (Shoeless Joe Jackson was no where to be seen.) The "scares" were mostly "startles." But fun-EE. (And mostly by the PeeDee.)

PeeDee works on the east side of the Bay so he took BART down to Fremont, where he wound up waiting in a strip mall in an hour because the IJS Shuttle hit so much traffic. A couple of margaritas later, and he was good to go.

We arrived at the Ardenwood Farms just as the sun was setting. It had been a hot day in the City, and a hot drive down 101, and according to my car’s thermometer, it was still 85 degrees as the sun set. It was a beautiful autumn night and perfect for a dark night in a corn maze.

Only one thing was missing, which, prepared as we are, was readily remedied. With the leftover cups from our night out at Fisherman’s Wharf, we handily prepared our whore’s coffees from the trunk cooler, which is now just referred to as the “car bar.”

The maze was pretty overrun with large groups of kids, but the maze sprawled over five acres and had ample room to get lost and isolated.

It started out a little spooky, with lots of jumping out at each other as we wound through the dark, but then it just got slap happy and silly, and ever so much fun. I heartily recommend going, and especially at night. And especially with a whore’s coffee.

Amidst the maze were a series of helpful hint signposts featuring ten trivia categories, ranging in difficulty from “genius” to “special” (not the real category names). The questions were multiple choice and a correct answer would give you the correct direction (left or right). However, it should be obvious which was the right answer even without reading the ~~you’re a moron~~ Tiny Tots category as the correct direction would always be the one only listed once. If the questions are all three-choice multiple choice (a), (b), or (c); and only one answer is right, and only one binary direction is right, then the two answers with the same direction must be wrong.

But I was being far too logical (i.e. actually using logic).

Logic was not on the menu as the final trivia category was always a biblical question. That was so disturbing we decided we always had to answer the bible question, or make up our own (“How much did Mary Magdalene charge for a quickie behind the stables?” “How often did Mary do laundry? (c) Never, Jesus never got dirty.). Shilpa always preferred the Tiny Tots questions (“What vegetable does popcorn come from?”).

We loved the maze:

And had no trouble cracking ourselves up. Alert Reader Paul Day led the Corn Row Runway Walk Competition, but I still think Fred was the winner.

At one point we came across two guys who work for the maze. One guy was wearing a mask and scaring kids. The other one had entered with us and I recognized him from the ticket booth. We loved these guys for several reasons: (1) one guy was kinda hot, (2) they were both rather lit, and (3) they were also drinking whore’s coffees in the maze!

Deep in the maze was a bridge over a crossing passage. The top of the bridge gave a wide view of the rest of the maze, and its sprawl over many acres was quite impressive (but sadly impossible to photograph in that light).

Inside the maze itself, it was very cool (in temperature). On top of the bridge, the air was back up in the 80s. I should also note that while we had a flashlight, it was unnecessary as the clear sky and the nearly-full moon were more than ample. And the waxing gibbous was perfect for the night’s atmosphere. (And reminded me a lot of my old Full Moon Walks.)

During our hour-long foray, we did encounter some of the same people more than once. Our favorite though was about 45 minutes in, passing a family and hearing a kid say, "Look! It's the latte people."

We exited the maze about a quarter past 9:00, and were too late to make it to the adjoining pumpkin patch, which had just closed (the maze is open to 10:00). Barney, of course, made a bee-line to the parking lot for a smoky treat. (It should be obvious that smoking is not allowed deep in a dry cornfield.)

I took this pic to add to the others.

There was another Fremont Halloween attraction advertised online and we thought we might make it there before the pirate-themed carnival closed. However, this attraction was on Shilpa’s street.

Shilpa has some serious boundary issues with her parents, and felt oppressive guilt for being in the neighborhood and not spending time at home. We, sensitive 'mo's that we are, gave her nothing but harassment for this, and made her guide us to a drive-by so we could see the Home of Shilpa. We passed her elementary school on the way, where I presume she was also an Alert Reader.

She panicked as she approached her parents’ house. She was racked with guilt for not going inside, but I couldn’t reason why. And one point she said she thought it was bad manners. But I think it would have been worse manners to show up after 9:00, while they are in bed, unannounced, drunk, and with a carload of mo’s that will never marry her (her mother does not approve of drinking or homos). She was afraid of being “caught,” but we forced her to let us take a picture in front.

We stopped short of rolling (toilet-papering) her house.

We stopped for dinner at Shilpa’s favorite Indian place (with “Indian Chinese food” if you would believe) and we recklessly abandoned Phase One of South Beach, which we had begun a mere 18 hours earlier.

I may have had nan and some rice, but WOW was it worth it. OMG. That dinner alone was worth the nightmare commute to Fremont. Shilpa, of course, got all sorts of looks as the one Indian girl with a gaggle of crackers, in an Indian restaurant in an Indian neighborhood. But wow, again with the food. I’m kinda having a moment just writing about it. Masala Grill.

Unfortunately as the driver, I had to minimize the evening’s drinking and stay awake for the long ride home. The passengers, however, were ready for their food coma.