Ben & Jerry's "chunkfest"

WHOA, BABY. You know what's the part I hate most about updating journals? It's editing photos. I wrote this entry three days ago, wanted to post it up, then realised: I have not edited the photos. Three days later, I did it. Hurray!

Ben and Jerry's chunk fest is the worst chunk fest I've ever been to. There was no fest and there was no chunk, only a measly bunch of people gathered around wondering why the hell they were doing there.



Beautiful corporate branding. Tricks you everytime.

First of all, it was located at Fort Canning Hill.

Fort Canning Hill is a place full of danger and peril, especially for people who do not exercise. I was in pants and platform shoes, and by the time I climbed to the third flight of stairs I was huffing and puffing like a mad bull, feeling like I was made to exercise against my will for ice cream.

ME: WHERE IS THE ICE CREAM.
ANOTHER 50 FLIGHTS OF STAIRS: LOL

Halfway through the climb, I turned to my friend. "Can you believe," I said, "that we're actually exercising for ice cream?"

She gave an intellectual nod. "Perhaps this is a warm-up."

Another 10 steps and she wasn't so certain. "Perhaps," she said, "we should go home."

There were a bunch of people in front of us just as lost, and I could tell this from the way they were dressed: not the typical kind of wear you'd find at any nature park; fancy and dolled-up. In fact, they looked exactly like us: meandering around the place like lost sheep, acting cool by looking at road signs and trying to lead the way.

Everyone, I could tell, was lost. Everyone, I could tell also, was reluctant to cave in and ask for directions. Including my friend and I. In fact, I half-expected someone to have a mental breakdown and run screaming down the Hill.

"I bet," I said bitterly, "that in another part of Fort Canning Hill people are lapping at their ice creams delightfully and laughing at the idiots making up their way on 50 flights of stairs."

Finally, we reached the place.

In my wildest dreams, I pictured the fest to be held under great balls of disco lights and wild dancing people. There will be trucks of ice cream queuing up to be eaten. There will be mad dashes for free stuff. There will be stomachaches, but of the happy sort, after which I will write in my blog, "I HAVE EATEN TOO MUCH ICE CREAM," and go to bed dreaming happy dreams.

What I did not expect, however, was this:



A grass patch.

Yummy.

If you do not know what a grass patch feels like on a muddy day with your toes poking out, don't try it. Just... don't.

Now, normally that wouldn't have bothered me if I weren't in pants and platforms. But I was. In pants and platforms.

"Good thing I wore something shorter," my friend said thoughtfully to me.

Here's what the grass patch looks like with people:



To the right of the picture, there is a guy smiling at the camera. It's nice to see someone enjoying himself.

The place had a sad array of activities. There were a bunch of ice cream stalls lying around (Ben and Jerry's website says "12 EXCLUSIVE FLAVORS FROM USA") looking neither tasteful nor exclusive. In fact, I believed I only saw 3-4 stalls and maybe this is attributed to heat hallucinations, but I was more preoccupied with the 12 million people standing around the place. It was nuts, the queue for any stall was insanely long, and any previous thoughts of eating ice cream in calm and serenity were happily defenestrated. (Thanks, Facebook.)

There was also a stage and an emcee, emcee-ing to a bunch of people with more interest in ice cream than games.

EMCEE: AND NOWWW, FOR AN EASIER QUESTION-- WHO IS THE 44TH PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES?
ME: This is ridiculous.

We decided to queue at the stall with the shorter queue - with about 12 people in front of us. There was a signboard with a list of orders, and a window through which we place our orders. We looked at the signboard.

It says (according to my memory):

Flavours: Strawberry kiwi, Mango Mango, Lemonade,

Sorbert flavours: Lemonade, Mango, Strawberry, Life on the Beach...

"LIFE ON THE BEACH," we said in unison. "NOW THAT'S EXCITING."

All through waiting, I thought of what a medium-sized sorbert "Life on the Beach" ice cream would look like. It would be cold in our hands and freezing on our tongues. It would be huge and completely lovely. It would be reminiscent of life on the beach: dancing around half-naked in your pants and feeling the wind around your chest.

In front of me, the cashier girl picked up an ice cream cup, and I saw, to my horror that it was dreadfully small. Until she passed it to the girl standing in front of me.

My order came.

The girl handed me a medium-sized sorbert drink in a cup.

ME: ...I'm sorry? Is this- is this my order?
CASHIER GIRL: Yes it is...
ME: Er. This is no ice cream. WHERE IS MY ICE CREAM. Can I change my order?

To say I was shocked was putting it mildly. My mind did a double-take and went blank. Years of dreams came crashing down into a nearby drain, splashing mud onto my toes. I thought of taking the sorbert drink and just scurrying away from sheer embarrassment.

But I was a customer and therefore, unreasonable.

"Er. I'm so sorry," I said. "I thought this was ice cream. Do you mind if I change my order?"

The cashier girl looked at me, confused, and then at her supervisor who, thankfully, did not.

"Okay," she said, a while later, dizzy from the heat.

So it turns out that "Life on the Beach" was a sorbert drink, and either we were too blind to see the menu or that it was all actually very silly. Obviously, when you go to an ice cream chunk fest everything you see will resemble ice cream, including but are not limited to, things that are not ice cream.

In the end, we ordered Mango Mango and Lemonade. The Mango was nice but tasted horrible with Lemonade. I caught the cashier girl seeping a sorbert drink, probably wishing that customers were a wee bit smarter.

A few hundred metres from us, the emcee was still emcee-ing.

EMCEE: NOW, YOU GUYS. SAY IT WITH ME: PEACE! LOVE! AAAANDDDD--?
RANDOM GIRL ON STAGE: ICE CREAM!
EMCEE: THAT'S RIGHT! PEACE! LOVE! AND ICE CREAM!
ME: ...I think this is the part when people start to clap.

Some photos:



WHOA, ICE CREAM.



WHOA, NOTHING.



Some floaty thingies in the sky: See I like it so much I added a copyright. About the only thing awesome about the 'fest'.



"This has been a long journey," I said afterwards to my friend. "And only 10% of it involves ice cream."

"We are now on the other side," replied she. "Thinking of the people on the other end of the Hill climbing up 50 flights of stairs."