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03/14/2019 12:01 AM

Game of Scones: Part I


Crashing a reality TV show was never an item on my bucket list. Nonetheless, I can now cross it off. You never know what can happen here on the shoreline. Sometimes it only takes a little journey just beyond our shores.

The Duchess calls with news that her family is going to be involved in some sort of reality show and we decide that we want in on the action. What occurs as we attempt to join in on the reality fun plays out like one of those medieval fantasy quest tales, complete with fire-breathing dragon.

The show is about a particular restaurant, but that’s all we know. No one is told exactly what the show is or who’s involved. It’s all shrouded in mystery, but we have our suspicions.

The producers don’t want family members who aren’t working in the restaurant to be there. Still, the Duchess, Squire, and I decide to journey from our little shoreline town to where the filming will take place. Our quest is to watch the show being filmed and, if possible, to catch a glimpse of a reality-show dragon. If we’re correct in our thinking about what this show is, there will definitely be a dragon.

I’m home reading when the Duchess calls. “The dragon is there right now! When can you be ready to go?”

I tell her I can be ready immediately. Squire says the same and we set off in the Duchess’s steed of a Jeep. When we get to the restaurant everything is closed up tight. Alas, no entry into the castle. So we set up camp at a nearby tavern and wait for word from inside. A round of drinks—I’ll say mead for the sake of this story—is ordered.

When we finally hear from someone within the castle walls, there isn’t much to tell. The place is closed. The dragon is breathing lots of fire. That’s it.

We go back to the restaurant to see for ourselves what’s what. By now the entire place is surrounded by white tents. It’s like being confronted with a giant moat and drawn-up drawbridge.

A guard wearing a headset and carrying a clipboard approaches. He might as well be wearing armor and carrying a sword.

“Hi. Um. We have reservations?” the Duchess says, feigning innocence.

“Sorry, I can’t let you in. Restaurant is closed for renovations,” the guard replies.

“But we’ve traveled so far and for so long,” the Duchess says.

“Yup, looooooong journey,” I tell him. I’m rather full of mead.

“You had a reservation? Did they call you to cancel?” asks the guard.

“No! We’re so tired and hungry,” we all say.

The guard verifies the number we’d left for the reservation. “Come back tomorrow,” he tells us.

He’s very nice, especially for a guard, but this is a complete disappointment. We’ve missed it. The dragon has arrived, is breathing fire everywhere, and we’ve missed it all! How can this be?

Discouraged and saddened, we make our way back to the steed and retreat. Then, a phone call just as we’re leaving the area. There will be a castle break in the form of a temporary release of some serfs. We’ll get to hear what happened first hand.

Back to the tavern.

As we walk through the doors, one of the servers says, “You’re back? You’ve been here for hours!”

Another round of mead for all!

We’re told that the dragon is indeed breathing fire at everyone in the form of yelling and spewing commands. Meanwhile, his staff is completely renovating the castle/restaurant. It’s exciting to get the scoop, but we’re sad that we didn’t accomplish what we’d set out to accomplish when we’d started our journey. It’s funny what happens when you hit enough roadblocks, though. What begins as a lark becomes an all-out mission.

We are discouraged but we are not defeated.

And so, our tale will continue. Next column, we storm the castle and attempt to get a glimpse at a real reality dragon.

. . . To Be Continued. . .

Juliana Gribbins is a writer who believes that absurdity is the spice of life. Her book Date Expectations is winner of the 2017 Independent Press Awards, Humor Category and winner of the 2016 IPPY silver medal for humor. Write to her at jeepgribbs@hotmail.com. Read more of her columns at www.zip06.com/shorelineliving.