True Confessions: Chuck E Cheese Turned My Husband Into A Liar

Remember true confessions magazines? I don’t remember what they were all called, other than I’m pretty sure there was one actually called True Confessions. I don’t know for sure though. I don’t trust my memory as much as I used to. I guess I could google it, but that requires an effort.

When I was a kid, I loved true confessions magazines. They were seedy and salacious. I asked Randy if he ever read them and he looked at me the way one would look at week old road kill on the dinner table. He didn’t have a moue of distaste, it was more than a moue, more a grimace tinged with superiority. He looked like he had just witnessed the defiling of priceless work of art or like someone suggested he eat snot.

That might also be the first time I have ever used the word “moue”, either spoken or written. 

Me: What? You never read them? They were awesome.

Randy: No. No, I never read them.

Me: But you were aware they existed, right?

Randy: Yeah, but I never read them.

Me: Well, aren’t you fancy.

Randy: Fancy enough to find a better use of my time than read stupid true confession magazines.

I’ve been laying here in bed for 30 minutes trying to figure out segue into why Randy is a liar because of Chuck E Cheese and couldn’t come up with anything clever, so instead, I’ve been watching Patton Oswalt on Youtube. I don’t think that qualifies as a true confession. I have no idea how to make that more seedy or salacious. Other than my pajamas don’t match.  

Anyway, Randy and I have our own people issues.

I’m not good in social settings where I have to interact with people, but Randy is pretty good at that. He’s just not good when he has to be around large groups of people. Holiday shopping in a mall is his own personal hell.

If you throw in flashing lights, then he is done. So, casinos are right out. County fairs at night are iffy.

Keep this in mind when I tell you about the conversation I just heard between him and our granddaughter.

This is what I heard Randy say: Really? You’re going to Chuck E Cheese? I love Chuck E Cheese.

Randy is a goddamn liar. The only place on the planet he hates more than Chuck E Cheese is a crowded craft store.

I have no idea why the craft store bothers him so much more than other crowded places. The only problem I have with craft stores is I always forget to not buy the candy by the check out. The candy at craft stores is always stale and stale Butterfingers are sad. 

I posted the exchange I eavesdropped on between Randy and his granddaughter on Facebook and one of my high school friends said Randy is a good grandpa.

I told my friend that Randy got his oldest grandchild to call him “Mr. Combs” until she was nearly 4 years old. That gets him an “Okay” rating as a grandpa with a strong leaning toward awesome.

He is awesome. I hang truck loads of shit on him because he makes it super easy and it’s my emotionally immature way of showing affection.

So, that is my true confessions admission. My husband is a liar because of Chuck E Cheese. Or perhaps, he’s just an engaged grandpa who wanted to connect with his granddaughter. I’m not sure that story would measure up for the true confessions publications from the seventies.

I’m glad I listened in on Randy’s phone call. I’ve been bogged down in the news and wondering how long I can sustain feeling this horrified and frightened.

I can’t stay mired in the news and tire fire that is our government.

I have decided that I will watch more videos of dogs sledding and kittens stretching. I’m trying to focus more on what makes me feel good, like listening to my husband talk to his 7 year old granddaughter. Who needs true confession magazines when I have a perfectly good husband to hang shit on? That’s certainly better than reading even one more article about the orange psycho puff’s administration.

Patton Oswalt just said “Donald Trump is sour cream in a sauna.” So far, that is the best thing I’ve heard all day. Other than Randy professing his love for a pizza rat. 

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  • I’ve often thought Chuckie would be behind someone going crazy and shooting up the place. Get a mother on the jury and you’d never be convicted

  • I just love you sister! Thanks for the birthday wishes. I hate crowds, just can’t deal. I did every single bit of my Xmas shopping online this year and it was the best Christmas ever! No stress!

    • I do that as well. I am not a FAN of crowds, they are annoying…but no full body freak out over them or anything. Randy doesn’t tolerate them at all. Unless we’re outdoors..then it is SLIGHTLY better.

  • I work in a library and have access to magical library stuff that often sends me down information rabbit holes so I went looking for true confessions magazines and got stopped almost immediately by a publication called Fawcett’s Triple-X Magazine. Even though the 1920’s when it was published were a roaring time it was, according to the description, mostly detective and western stories, so unless it was the first place to publish “Brokeback Mountain” it’s probably not as salacious as it sounds.
    And then I got hung up remembering a Chuck E. Cheese commercial with a grandfatherly figure who asks two kids, “What would you like to do today?” Cut to the kids dragging Gramps around Chuck E. Cheese and forcing him to play videogames and while he appears to be laughing he’s more likely cringing in pain from a heart attack or maybe he broke a hip. And I think this commercial would be even funnier with Randy because I picture him in the middle of the place throwing pizzas like Frisbees and yelling “Welcome to Flavor Country, motherfuckers!” In other words the most amazing grandfather ever. I can’t find the commercial even though every fucking other thing ever made is on YouTube. It’s making me kind of crazy. I’m gonna be in this rabbit hole for a while.

  • It is not a coincident that Chuckee Cheese and Chucky the monster have similar names. I have vowed never to go to the home of the big Rat again and I like crowds, casinos, malls, but the hair on my arms is standing up with flash backs of the Chuckee Cheese encounters.

  • Anyone over the age of ten who says they like Chuck E. Cheese is a liar. Chuck E. Cheese is a cesspool of disease and their pizza is greasy slop. But, that’s 90% of interacting with children: lying about enjoying things you hate because otherwise you’re an asshole for shitting all over the things kids like.

  • Randy’s comment reminds me of a famous baseball player who did a commercial for a certain brand of cigarette in which he said that they were his favorite brand. When they called him on it by noting that he didn’t smoke cigarettes, he weaseled out of it by saying that they were indeed his favorite brand because they had payed him fifteen thousand dollars, and no other brand had given him so much as a nickle.
    That’s the way I remember the story, anyway, and I wouldn’t know how to Google it to find out his name.
    I do remember True Confessions, though I can’t remember ever reading one. Not that I wouldn’t have: when I was a kid I would read anything I could get my hands on, and if it was something I wasn’t supposed to read for some reason, all the better.
    I saw the sledding dog video, also. And the one about the smallest cat in the wild.
    I’m getting pretty sick of all-Fergus-all-of-the-time news coverage, also, and that’s probably just how he likes it.
    So fuck him. There is still life to be lived while we can, so let’s do that.
    There is also good political news to buck us up during the drudgery of living through these political doldrums: Issa and Royce are retiring.

  • When we lived with a Chuck E. Cheese(‘s?) essentially in our backyard, it was the best way to get together with our friends who live too far away to see regularly (but still “local” in LA)… Friday night pizza parties for their 4-year-old/5-year-old! We no longer live with CEC in our backyard, and the boy has grown up (he’s 6 now), so he no longer gives a hoot for the giant rat.

    He may change his mind one day, and they may invite us to get together over there again. We’ll go, because not only is it noisy and flashing and greasy, but there’s also adult juice boxes. Wine makes everything better, IMO.

  • Hey! I remember True Confessions magazines! My mother used to get them all the time and I would often read, being an insatiable reader. Good times…

  • Ah, we’ve both got one of the good ones. Also, when Tristan was little, we went to Chuck E Cheese for his birthday and one of his little friends freaked out when Chuck E appeared and ran away. I tried hard not to laugh.

By Michelle


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