Dear Forever Yogurt,
It’s really trendy these days to label oneself a control freak. Everyone who has the slightest preference about anything claims the title. With this proliferation of self-proclaimed control freaks running around, I have decided that I, in fact, am not a control freak. Nevertheless, I like to serve my own dessert. Thanks to you, I can do that now in public.
I freaking love Forever Yogurt. I love that you trust me to scoop my own condiments into my yogurt. I like to mix and match and it’s so humiliating to go to TCBY and say, “I would like 4 kernels of granola, 17 raisins and an ounce of sprinkles.” Those people make minimum wage; they rightfully balk at having to count out my raisins.
But, when I walk into Forever Yogurt, I wait on myself. And I like it. A lot.
I like that I can make the most atrocious mix of yogurts in my own private little cup without the disapproving stare of an employee wearing a colorful apron and matching hat. I like your cookie dough and your kiwi bits. I like that your spoons are both deep and long so that when I get some yogurt after teaching my class I can walk down the street eating my yogurt and not drip all over my hands. I have a reputation to uphold, so fingers caked with frozen yogurt might compromise my professorial image. (Unlike this blog, which only enhances by image as a competent teacher of legal scholars.) And, I’m so thrilled that you have declicious flavors like coffee and thin mint and peanut butter– I have no idea what the hell is in your yogurt, but the sign above professes that it’s not too fattening and it tastes like a dream.
Let people who love the taste of curdled milk enjoy their Starfruit and Pinkberry. They can have it. I want the artificial and preservative-filled cup of goodness that I can serve up myself. My only complaint is that the location nearest my house is not open until 11:00 a.m. You know, there is a crowd of people (say, me and Simon and Sadie) who get up at 5:30 a.m. (thanks, Simon) and are ready for a sweet treat by 9:45 a.m. I didn’t appreciate it when the winter shift was consistently late in opening the store last year. Other than those small gaffes, I have enjoyed every cup of self-created frozen yumminess. I humbly request that you add pecans to your Wicker Park location and how about a Groupon now and then?
You have confirmed my life-long thesis: Nothing tastes as good as being in control.