Monday, November 22, 2010

One way ticket to "Pleasuretown!"

Though I did not know before “Pleasuretown” is not very far away. Upon arrival in Dallas/Fort Worth Int. Airport I found the gateway. A casual observer might feel that the oversize Cowboy’s Cheerleaders calendar in the Dallas Cowboy’s team shop were “Pleasuretown”, alas, it is not so. Some might think that TGI Fridays is “Pleasuretown”, but no. Sue Venir’s gift shop brings a gleam to my eye, but yet “Pleasuretown” is not there! I found the gateway to “Pleasuretown” next to “Ropin Ridin” gifts. It is Auntie Ann’s Pretzel shop.
Previous to this encounter I had always had a sick fascination with the fact this organization was still in business. I see now I was wrong to dismiss the pretzel slinging broad as a fad from the ‘80’s. They are selling one way tickets to “Pleasuretown” in the form of a pretzel wrapped hotdog. It looks unassuming. Unpretentious. Yet the alluring voice of “Pleasuretown” is an unmistakable Siren’s song.  Though still full from breakfast I am considering the purchase of my own one way ticket.
To be totally frank (pun intended), I have never purchased anything from Auntie Anne. She has her fingerprints all over it seems. She was in Las Vegas at the Stratosphere sky mall. She is in Seattle. Who eats there? In all my life I don’t recall anyone talking about my aunt Anne. I have an Aunt Jan, but she is not a pretzel maker. It has been several minutes since I have been sitting here watching, but it seems that no one is buying tickets to “Pleasuretown.” I see a man adjusting his luggage, obviously he has pleasure enough in his life. From what I can tell from my seat Auntie Anne’s has two types of “Pleasuretown”, one is salty, the other sweet.
 [I just relocated because two tickets to “P-Town” were purchased, though neither was a pretzel dog.]
Even with the recent pleasure trip, I have a hard time believing that Auntie Anne’s is a destination. It seems more likely that the tickets to “Pleasuretown” are purchased by people in a hurry, who are out of options. Just a moment ago my flight was announced and we were informed that we could purchase a snack pre-flight if we wanted. Now that ticket is looking mighty fine indeed. Will I do it? I am right on the fence. I end this segment of my report to investigate pricing.
[I am now writing on my flight. I would have tried to research the tickets to “Pleasuretown” online, but unfortunately the internet costs $10]
Though I was teetering on the brink of indulging my senses with a one way ticket to “Pleasuretown”, I have managed to extricate myself from the airport without spending any money. The sight of the shriveled dogs, glistening in the pretzel wrapper was tempting yes. But the $3.69 price tag dissuaded me. That said, they give out samples at Auntie Anne’s and I believe I recall a time from yesteryear when I would eat of her bounty. Of course I was as cheap then as I am now and I doubt I bought anything. If I ever bought anything from a mall food court it was usually an Orange Julius, or perhaps a Cinabon.
These guilty pleasures are part of my suburban youth which I will never understand. I think I did stuff like go to the mall out of boredom. There are many times that I think the kids out in the country, with nothing to do but go down to the river, might have it better. At least you can’t spend money out in nature. Anyhow, this is about “Pleasuretown”, I almost forgot!
"Pleasuretown". The name is so sensual. It is so sleek. It makes me think of things like lazer tag, and licorice. Actually what it reminds me of is the Island in Pinnochio where all the boys played and frolicked, and in the end were turned into donkeys. The scene has always terrified me.  “Pleasuretown” reminds me of Las Vegas, which is a city without soul. A place where life is exchanged for “experience” and human endeavor is reduced to a combination of loud noises and airbrushed pictures.
If I end up working in Pleasuretown, I ask the world to put a bullet in my leg. Preferably a small bullet in my calf. Please avoid major veins and arteries if you may as well. I don’t want to sound weak hearted, I am going to be honest here and tell you, I am actually afraid of getting shot. It sounds just awful. Even so, I would still rather be wounded than make a living in Las Vegas, and I sure as hell don’t want a pleasure town weiner. Anyway, I think this is as far as I will be taking this one. See ya alligator! Buzzard

Note: Later during my flight the girl who had been sleeping next to me woke up and we began to talk. It turns out in Florida Auntie Anne’s pretzels are very popular. It is also ironic that her uncle owns a lot of them. She was on her way to meet her dad for the first time. We were both relieved that the other was also a jobless drifter.


  1. never know who you might be sitting with on an airplane

  2. Your still dreaming about the shriveled Weiner LOL "Pleasure Town"