Lake Pl-ass-id

I made better time through the Adirondacks than I thought, and as I did I realized what a speedbump Bear Mountain was compared to most of the other mountains in the park. As I neared the edge of the forest, and Lake Champlain, which separates New York and Vermont, I stopped to take a nap - I was exhausted! I took one of my ten-minute specials, the ones I became infamous for at Vocus after being up all night with the triplets. A forest ranger stopped to check on me, probably wondering why there was a car pulled over to the side with it’s blinkers on, but by that time I was thankfully up and rooting around in my backseat cooler for some turkey roll-ups, so I avoided a rude awakening.

I dutifully followed all of the necessary roads that would take me to the ferry across the lake to Burlington, VT, where my Uncle Mark, Kaitlin’s dad, lives with my two cousins Erik and Luke. This meant passing through Lake Placid, which I dubbed "Lake Plastic" because it was rank with yuppies. It was so disgusting. I realized driving through that it was the first time since leaving home that I’d seen a Gap, or a Starbuck’s, and I recoiled in absolute horror. I was sleepy so I parked on the side of the main road, by the Olympic Center, and strolled down to the Mobil station in search of a coffee pot. Two college-age guys were coming down the sidewalk and scowled at me as I was getting out of the car, which I thought was unnecessary, and it put me in as foul a mood as they were despite the fact that I knew it was wrong. I walked behind them to the gas station and one turned around to shoot me a mean glance again, I guess because I wasn’t the picture of beauty in my dirty jeans, pink Grover t-shirt, messy braids, glasses, and bright bandana on my head. But it still burned me up inside, because it was so undeserved.

I cheered up, though, when I got to the gas station and noticed a tiny Yorkie puppy skittishly prancing back and forth on top of the counter. Puppies always cheer anyone up, I think. It was a sweet little thing, and quite friendly; it let me nuzzle its little face and kiss its nose to my heart’s content. So I did. The sorry-looking coffee pot in the corner was empty so I asked the rude guy behind the counter, the one who kept glaring at me while I pet the puppy, where I could find some, and he mumbled, "Theresastewartsdowntheblockonthisside."

I excused myself from His Assholeness’ presence and walked on my merry way down the street in this town I was quickly coming to despise. Inside Stewart’s was not much better, as I tried to dodge bratty kids and mean looks. I had no idea what I did to these people, but then again maybe if I lived in Lake Plastic I’d be an angry cur too. I was so pissed I was started to need chocolate therapy, so I ordered a scoop of Death By Chocolate ice cream (if you’ve never been to a Stewart’s, do yourself a favor and go get some ice cream there sometime. They have an unlimited toppings bar so you can make your own sundae, even if you only get one scoop. But go to the one in Black River, NY, not Lake Crapcid.) and I smothered it in butterscotch, caramel, Reece’s Pieces, and chocolate sprinkles. And ate it as far away from every other human being as I could get, which was a shotty picnic table outside the place. Then I took my coffee and got the hell out of there, calling Mikey as I did.

It was so funny when I called him because I noticed myself starting to pick up his New York accent. I blared into the phone, "Eye’m in freekin’ Layke Plahycid eend Eye cayn’t even gaht a cahp’a caahfee without peepel beein’ compleet deckwahds!" Then I stopped talking and made sure to change my voice when I said, "Listen to me, I sound like you!" He didn’t think it was very funny.

I was so happy to get out of Lake Acid I sang a song as I left the city limits, to the tune of "The Witch Is Dead". I sang, "Ding-dong, I’m out of there, that awful place, without a care, ding-dong, I’m far away from there!" I’m sorry, George Pataki, but I wouldn’t care if a huge earthquake sank that place into the sea. I know I’m supposed to keep an open mind about every place I go, but the whole place had a pretentious vibe I haven’t felt since I was in Beverly Hills.