Despite having walked eight miles the day before and then having stayed up until 4 AM, we woke up Flawless. Under the circumstances, there was no other way our day could have begun than with a Beyoncé dance party. We made an impromptu bonfire out of couch cushions and danced around it in the utmost ceremonial fashion, hailing Queen Bey as we sang along to her empowering hooks.
Once everyone was done getting ready, we headed out to the Bad Waitress, a delightfully hip diner plastered in movie memorabilia. It’s called the Bad Waitress because no waitresses actually take your order; you write down the order yourself and turn it into the cashier. Brenda got an El Camino, I got the Out-of-this-Earth Scramble, Ally got Eggs Benedict, and Jason got some tofu dish. Our dishes came out beautifully and we spent a solid three minutes making photographic rounds (for magazine purposes) before allowing anyone to indulge in their meal.
After our satisfying brunch, we spent an hour or so exploring the area. We poked our heads into bicycle shops, high end boutiques, and vegan restaurants of all kinds. Afterwards we parked our car at the Walker Art Center and headed on over to Loring Park to get our Chipotle fix at the Cultivate Festival.
Being the free event that it was, the festival was packed, not only with people but also with Chipotle propaganda. We began our epic journey to complete a series of challenges that would culminate in the form of a free burrito. However, lines were long and we soon gave up. We did manage to get ourselves some free Ben & Jerry’s for supporting GMO labeling though.
Throughout the afternoon there were a variety of musical acts and celebrity chef demonstrations. Ally, being a religious viewer of “Chopped” on the Food Network, made sure we went to see Amanda Freitag. She charmed the audience with pork chops and deep fried green tomatoes. She was a lot of fun to watch, but it’s always a little sad to watch someone prepare food that you don’t get to actually eat. The delicious wafts of sizzling pork chops reached me all the way in the back corner of the crowd and I was reminded of the free burrito that was never to be.
At around 4:45pm we headed to the music stage to check out the Grouplove performance. The joyful experience of being sandwiched between throngs of hipsters and men in mesh pineapple printed shirts brought back memories of Rock the Garden. Despite the painstaking tiptoeing and rather exhausting task of avoiding beer spills, we were entranced by the charisma of the band and had a blast overall. Things definitely got turned up a notch when the group played their ever-so-catchy hit song “Tongue Tied.” We screamed along, watched the crowd surfers go by, and danced as clouds of Mary Jane hung over our heads (because hipsters keep wads of marijuana in their pockets at music festivals, just itching for a mere suggestion by one of the bands). Brenda and I were especially excited when they pulled out a grungy, garage band type cover of Beyoncé’s “Drunken Love.”
After the performance was finished, we sprawled onto a patch of grass, contemplating what to do next. We ended up taking a long walk back through the Sculpture Gardens and heading over to Dinkytown in search something to quench our thirst.
We happened upon Chatime and ordered various boba filled drinks. While enjoying them (well, with the exception of Ally’s painfully bitter tea that calls for an acquired taste), we played with an incredibly sticky Jenga set and took in the reality of the approaching school year. The last weekend of our summer was coming to a close.
Once we were finished with our bubble tea fix, we dropped Jason off at his dorm and headed back home. We righted our course after a short, unintentional detour, and the rest of the ride was fairly quiet. We discussed our favorite Scooby-Doo episodes and our college packing lists, our anxieties of starting college and plans of getting together in the future via Amtrak. In melodramatic terms, it was perhaps a bittersweet farewell, and we probably would have addressed it at some point, if only we weren’t distracted by the fact that I couldn’t figure out how to turn on the car lights. Rest assured, I eventually called my mother and we got home safely. We rolled into town at around 8:30pm. Our goodbye was filled with tight hugs, promises to keep in touch, and Brenda reassuring me that she would eventually finish a mixed CD for me. The next time we were all together, we would be college students.
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