a pie milkshake

This, friends, is what dissappointment looks like.

You might be thinking, "No, that's what a small milkshake looks like." But you would be wrong.

I've written in here about Chili Pies and Ice Cream before. It's a pie shop near my apartment that specializes in such fare as green chili and apple pies. It's pretty good. So when I heard, via the interwebs, that they have such a thing as a pie milkshake on the menu, I was instantly alert. Something composed of such excellent components couldn't possibly be bad and in fact might even be better than the sum of its parts.

So, cut to yesterday evening after dinner when I nagged Daniel for a solid forty minutes, insisting that we go try the famed pie milkshake. Bundled in coats and walking several blocks in the howling wind, I could tell he was not pleased with the plan. Once we arrived, practically panting with excitement, I placed  the order for my pie milkshake. Peach pie with strawberry ice cream, if you must know.

And...it was awful. It tasted sort of like soggy muesli stirred into strawberry yogurt, which is maybe the last thing that pie and ice cream should taste like.

I took one bite and then firmly set my spoon down on the table. Daniel looked for a moment as though he might tear out his hair, then shrugged and ate most of the milkshake while I sulked. Then we walked home and got ready for bed, whereupon Daniel was crippled with stomach pains from the late-night binge of sugar and dairy.

So. To come to a point, pie shakes are bad news. The end.