Slice
Dear Slice: A Visit to Chuck E. Cheese as a Single, 29-Year-Old Male
Clicking in to the Slice inbox this morning, we've got a dispatch from the front lines of the mechpizza wars. It comes to use from Dustin M., who has written for us about the Flatbread Company in Maine and Aperitivo in Midtown Manhattan. --The Mgmt.
Photograph from Eric Neely's Chuck E.'s photo series
Hey Adam,
Here is my true pizza confession from this past weekend...
So this past Saturday afternoon I found myself deep in Queens having to take care of a few issues with the ex-lady's car (long story). And on top of that, I also had to pick her up at LGA a little bit later on (yeah, I know, I know ... I'm a sucker). And being that I was relatively close to LGA already, I decided it was time to explore Northern Boulevard for some grub to pass the time.
So I'm driving along the Bully (usually reserved for Queens Boulevard, but whatever), when I notice a sign that I knew quite well growing up. It was a Chuck E. Cheese's. Boom. Bamn. Thank you Ma'am.
I remember their pizza very fondly and always had a thing for their sweet sauce. I was genuinely excited about my little adventure, completely ignoring the fact that I was about to walk into a Chuck E. Cheese's as a single 29-year-old man with no children with him whatsoever. I have no doubts that security was watching me from the moment I stepped in there.
Photograph from downing.amanda on Flickr
Anyway, as expected on a Saturday afternoon, the place was an absolute zoo. The lady directed me to the pizza counter after I told her I was here strictly for the pizza. I ordered a straight-up large cheese pizza all for myself (à la Home Alone). To my semi-delight, after I paid the guy behind the counter for the pizza, a bunch of game tokens popped out of the register as well. He handed me my change, the tokens, and a little number thingie to place on my table so they know where the pizza is going.
I walked around the joint a few times and realized these were not exactly the video games for 29-year-old dudes, so I just grabbed a table and just sat and waited eagerly for the pizza.
After about 20 minutes of observing the madness (and lots of cute mothers), a man showed up with my pie. I rubbed my hands together and licked my lips and grabbed my first slice ... and ... it was terrible. Really crappy, in fact, and I went from about 100 mph to a puttering 15 in about 1.2 seconds.
The sauce was still good like I remember, but there was just one problem with that ... there was barely any of it there. It was mainly just really crappy cheese on even crappier dough. Balderdash!
Still, I somehow managed to shove half the pie down, wrapped up the rest for humility's sake, and walked out of there feeling defeated. On a bright note, I did hand off my tokens to a lovely gal and her little son, so it wasn't a complete loss.
The leftovers never had a chance, and I rectified my mistake as best as I knew how--for lunch on Sunday I went to Motorino and for dinner I went to Artichoke. YUM!
But, yeah, this has been my true pizza confession and you're the only guy I could turn to and admit what I had done, since you might understand at least the logic in place when I made the decision ;-)
--Dustin
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Dear Dustin,
Sorry to hear about your break-up. Is this the same "lady" who accompanied you to Flatbread Company?
Also sorry to hear about your Chuck E. experience. Sometimes it's better to let sleeping pies lie. Fond recollections are often undone by revisiting the past. That's been my experience with some once-favorite pizzerias back home in Kansas City (and with a recent go-round with a Chef Boyardee Pizza Kit).
Though you did follow the procedure I like to call the "pizza override." It's like the eyewash station in school science labs. Motorino was a great choice. Not so sure about Artichoke these days. How was it?
Anyway, just glad you didn't get arrested at CEC's. It took guts to go in there as an unaccompanied 29-year-old male. Next time, borrow a friend's kid.
Hasta la pizza,
Adam