I’ll go on any adventure that ends with ponies. This one ended in heartbreak.
Four of us voyaged to a pet farm yesterday. Our first order of business was to attain the cycles. Unfortunately, the seats were too high for our lady legs. We enlisted the help of our fellow American, Ryan.
Ryan: You need an Alan wrench.
Audrey: I don’t even know Alan.
Ryan: You don’t know what an Alan wrench is?
Ohhh an Alan wrench. Yes, of course, I was just using that to patch up my submarine, right after I used a jackhammer to install some concrete.
We were clearly baffled, so Ryan adjusted our seats for us. If Jesus were a cycle repairman, he would look like Ryan. Ryan was the strength to our weakness, just like holding hands.
|He probably has a license to steer a screwdriver too|
We began our journey to the farm. The directions to Glenroe were ‘follow the signs’, which is kind of like telling someone that all you need to do to skydive is jump out of a plane. It was a perilous journey, filled with roundabouts and two casualties. The first hill claimed Hanna, and she turned back to do her homework’s bidding. About two minutes away from our destination (unbeknownst to us), Paige jumped ship. It was down to the two of us. “You won’t leave me, will you Natalie?” There was silence. I feared that she had abandoned me as well. Luckily, she was just breathing, and soon yelled back an acceptable response.
We wondered why our journey was taking so long. Then we realized we were biking uphill the entire time. I just thought I had poor posture. As we finally approached the farm, my worst fears were confirmed. It was closed. Hanna and Paige weren’t so silly for turning back after all. I had checked the website four times to make sure it was open, but I must have wanted it to be open so badly I didn’t really pay attention. The sheep were so close I could see the joy in their eyes at the prospect of being pet. The animals at Glenroe Open Farm are enclosed by a fence. First they’re closed, and then they lie. An old man saw us from the Glenroe building and stared us down. I wanted to befriend him.
Audrey: I thought you were open today!
Natalie and I made the most of the closed farm. We drank water, saw some ornery dogs, and took a picture of a sign with a horse painted on it. It wasn’t very cuddly.
|Our disappointment poses look a lot like our awkward poses|
Undeterred by our failed farm experience, Natalie and I embarked on a new adventure with fanatical positivity. We ditched the bikes (after responsibly putting them away and locking them up) and ventured into town in search of frappes. We stopped into the coffee shop where I’ve been working on Saturdays. I must not be doing so badly, because they gave us free drinks. My favorite manager Alan was there, whom I’ve sadly never worked with because he doesn’t work on Saturdays if he can help it. I bet he knew how to use a wrench.
|We were sad we missed out on sheep, but we sucked it up|
Nat and I boarded the DART in search of adventure. I still had 3.5 slices of white bread meant for precious animals (.5 slices went to an ornery dog who, in retrospect, didn’t deserve it). Unfortunately, the bread was eventually returned to the cafeteria after failing to find even a measly pigeon. We also missed the DART on the way back by 30 seconds because it left early. It is faster than I realized. We built our own train instead. It was filled with massages and happiness. No tools were involved, because we don’t know how to use those manly contraptions.
|Conducting a train is easy|