As most theaters are, our local one is a little not so secret hub of cool things to do and great places to relax and spend an evening... from the $1 bookstore which is always fun to browse, to the smattering of restaurants ranging from a crepe maker to a Johnny Rockets, and chocolatiers just up the street, it's a perfect sampler of Big City within the confines of a neatly manicured little Los Angeles suburb, complete with mini lights strewn throughout the trees. It's the main drag, and really comes alive especially during the summer months where you find yourself needing to maneuver your car like a Hollywood stunt driver in order to get a parking spot. Our theater is tucked away in this enclave of coolness and late one Sunday night after a movie we walked out into the still warm valley air where a sweet pink and green glow so inviting it was almost supernatural caught our eye. We've noticed the Pinkberry here before, but never really gave it much though, it was just another place crowded with college kids in skinny jeans and way too long sideswept bangs. But this night it was empty, in fact, we had the entire area to ourselves which was surreal but absolutely awesome. We headed over for a sweet yogurt nightcap ( Live cultures? What?! ) and fell in love immediately! Frozen yogurt that tastes like actual yogurt and not processed artificial flavors? Yes please! We left with some salted caramel and pomegranate buried under fresh mangos and strawberries and couldn't have been happier.
So cut to a few weeks later, and Pinkberry has been haunting us something fierce. It was just too good. I decide to brave the literally impossible parking which is literally, impossible. But not before a quick Google to find their number and hours. Because seriously, if I ran out half a tank of gas and nearly clip a studio exec ( the odds are good on that one, trust me )who was cutting off some soccer mom in order to get a parking spot - only to find them closed, well... it would not be pretty! But what? Google? Do my eyes deceive me? Are you really suggesting I search the word 'Delivery' after Pinkberry? Oh shush! Thats crazytalk! A Pinkberry that delivers? I really doubt that one sir!
Lo and behold, this impossibly located Pinkberry delivers! (Cue the ray of sunshine and hallelujah chorus.) The yogurt gods are surely rewarding me for a childhood spent on the westside paying my dues at Penguins and The Big Chill. Now, I get to avoid the throngs of too-cool-for-school hipsters beckoned like moths to a flame by the enormous Urban Outfitters store over there AND we all get to have yogurt! Life is grand, folks. A relatively painless phone call and a half hour later we're all enjoying a little tangy mango, pomegranate, and watermelon perfection. Delivered, however, by a painfully apathetic hipster complete with tiny pants and unwashed hair.
Whatever. You can't win em all. At least the universe has a sense of humor.