When we first moved to the suburbs, I noticed one of those cute paint your own pottery places. And thought – how adorable! A perfect activity for a rainy afternoon.
And then it poured a few days before Rick’s birthday.
So I figured the girls could paint him a pottery tie to wear to work or a pottery iPhone or something.
I call up the place and I’m told it’s $8 per child for a one hour session.
FINALLY. No more overpriced Manhattan kid places. $16 bucks for an hour of entertainment. Totally reasonable.
So we arrive and the girls pick out two coffee mugs (because apparently they don’t actually make ties or iPhones out of clay which I think is a bit shortsighted but whatever) and my girls get to work painting their masterpieces for daddy’s big 4-0.
Now the place isn’t cooking with gas and I start to feel a little sorry for the owner. I mean, $8 bucks an hour can’t possibly pay the rent and there’s practically nobody here. I’ll definitely have to come back. I’ll bring my friends. You know, once I have a few. Note: Find friends to bring to sad pottery place.
17 minutes later, the girls are done.
Apparently, no hour needed to create great art.
So we collect our things and the owner rings us up. I’m about to hand him a $20 when he says…
My mind went numb.
“What?” I ask.
“Wow. Well, that’s a lot of money. For two mugs. How exactly is that the total?”
“Well, it’s the $16 sitting fee for the two kids. Plus $18 for each mug. Plus tax.”
Holy crap, they charge for those mugs?! Those generic, white mugs. I think I can get a set of six mugs from Crate & Barrel for like $24 bucks. No, seriously, I can.
$57.06 for 17 minutes of do-it-yourself pottery?!
In the end, the owner took $8 bucks off my bill. Maybe he was hoping that would wipe the stunned expression off my face.
And those mugs? Not even ready in time for Rick’s birthday. It takes 10 days for them to be glazed or perhaps, coated in 14K gold.