fake towns and middle age

After beginning to write three times and erasing all of what I might have shared I have settled on writing about my tourist experience (with three college friends) in Shipshewana, IN this week-- where the amish get down and funky.

first of all, I drove in and felt as if I dropped into a town created with cookie cutters. All the buildings were small along "main street." (can one really call it main street when the town doesn't have a gas station?) As my friends and I began shopping we immediately identified that this was most likely indeed a fake... no stores were open and seemed to serve the purpose of only looking adorable-- in a hansel-and-gretel-there-is-probably-an-old-lady-ready-to-kill-you-inside-because-anything-this-cute-must-have-a-catch kind of way.
when we finally found one open I was shocked to discover that it was possible to hold that many dollies in one place. and candles. and decorative plates. it was absolutely staggering-- how do middle aged women with vera bradley totes make it out without a mental breakdown because of the decisions to be made?
each consecutive store was similar... i began to reel from the "country chic" charm of it all.

by eleven we four collegiate's were ravaging --craving some chicken and noodles, of course, I mean it is AMISH country-- after our hard morning searching for the best priced figurine to collect dust in our future homes. so we made our way to the most prominent amish restaurant in town. while we waited in the gift shop for a table, I was catapulted into middle age when to my right I overheard some ladies in quilted jackets chatting with eachother--
"OH MY, I saw the cutest designer rolling pins at such and such!! I just have to go back!!!!" said one.
"What were they like?" asked another.
"Oh you know, with such and such and only such and such a price!"
A fake blond gave a huge gasp and then an excited squeal that I felt should have only been used at the birth of a first grandchild, "I need to get that!" blondie said.
My frame shook with silent laughter. I almost felt guilty at taking pleasure at someone else's expense but it passed swiftly-- it's not like they knew, right? My roommate came up and asked me what was up-- I explained what had happened and said "I was just trying to imagine ever being that excited about a rolling pin." "Yeah, it's weird imagining being old." she replied.

we were soon ushered to our table and were greeted by Maria our hispanic waitress who wore an amish dress, apron and hose conservatively topped off with dark eyeliner and shadow. Going back to the fake town thing... I said to myself. We ordered our meal and ate all that was wholesome and came with chucks of chicken in thick gravy. It was good I will admit.

one more shop for closure and then we were headed out-- each of us with hours of driving ahead and a long Christmas break to go 8 miles over the speed limit for.

I think this was a learning experience. when else would I have seen how tourism can make normal people do such bizarre things and taken an unwanted peek at all I hope my middle-aging will not bring?

disclaimer: events described in this blog are not entirely fictitious-- any resemblance to people living and living dead is entirely intentional if somewhat exaggerated.


have a beautiful night and don't forget to chuckle at your world.