21: Today on Urban Foodie Gal: Why I’ve “Soured” on the Logan Square Lemonade Stand Scene

by suededenimfiresale

You ask anybody who knows me and they’ll tell you that this b*tch loves me some lemonade, so when I scored the hookup to check out the soft launch of Alisa and Ashleigh’s Ice Kold Lemonade Stand at the Farmers Market, I thought, “Finally, Logan Square has the beginnings of an outdoor, child-owned-and-operated drink stand scene.”

And let’s face it: Logan Square is long overdue for some lemonade stands. I’m from Hinsdale, and while—don’t get me wrong, people!–Chicago has a lot to offer, many are the summer afternoons when this Hinsdale girl yearns for the days when she lived in a city that actually has lemonade stands on every corner, in every neighborhood, with just the right blend of freshly-squeezed lemons, perfectly chilled, sugar-infused water and the perfect number of ice cubes, served in a ruby red plastic Solo cup by young entrepreneurs acquiring their first experiences in the free enterprise system, bright-eyed and eager to please.

With all that being said, it is nearly impossible to register my profound disappointment and deep depression over my experience with Alisa and Ashleigh’s Ice Kold Lemonade Stand. I’m still so p*ssed, I don’t even know where to start.

But I’ll try, so ok: Let’s start with the prices. Fifty cents for a cup of lemonade?! Are you f*cking kidding me?! I mean, yeah, sure—I get it—the cost of living expenses are higher here, but to pay that much for a cup of lemonade is price-gouging, if you ask me.

So the price was Strike One, but I decided I would see this through, no matter what. Oh, but just when I was about to cut them some slack, Strikes Two and Three reared their ugly heads. (Or, should I say, fingers and nose, but more on that later.)

Strike Two happened as I watched one of these girls try and make their lemonade. (I didn’t bother trying to learn their names, I was so disgusted.) While one of the girls sat at their table coloring in a coloring book (too cool and aloof to say hi to me, but whatever), I watched in horror as the other girl made their so-called lemonade. Was she squeezing lemons into a pitcher? Uh, no. She had that powdered, out of a can, store-bought crap, and with a spoon, she unceremoniously dumped the powder into the pitcher. Do you understand me now? THIS LEMONADE STAND DOESN’T USE REAL LEMONS!!!

Since this is Logan Square, tell me: Is this supposed to be one of those “ironic hipster jokes?”

What. A. Bunch. Of. Bull. Sh*t.

Strike Three was happening at the same time as Strike Two. With her nonspooning hand, this skinny Logan Square girl was picking her nose as she stared up into the sky and sang Taylor Swift songs, completely oblivious to how disgusting and unsanitary she was being. It was as gross as the inside of a “dive bar,” which, in case you’re wondering, is a type of drinking establishment that has been in business for more than ten years.

Nonetheless, I persisted in my folly, as I like to support small businesses, at least once. I ignored my nausea and my “three strikes and you’re out” rule and placed my order, hoping against hope that somehow things would get better.

They didn’t. Coloring Book Girl was rude and a total b*tch. She didn’t have change for a five, so, as if I wasn’t already paying too much for lemonade, I received as change, three dollars and forty-three cents in the form of quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies. This was a severe inconvenience for me, as I don’t enjoy having that much change in my change purse. FML.

Don’t even get me started on the lemonade, if you want to call it that. It was lukewarm. No ice cubes. The powder granules stuck to my tongue. It only took one sip to convince me that this was the worst cup of lemonade I have ever tasted on one of the worst days of my life ever.

But don’t get me wrong. I’m still hoping for the best for Alisa and Ashleigh’s Ice Kold Lemonade Stand, because the hood needs a decent lemonade stand, totes now. Until that time comes though, all I can say is: OK, Logan Square. You’ve got skinny jeans, PBR, and art school attitude down pat, but when it comes to Lemonade Culture, you’ve still got a long way to go.

Until next time, this is Urban Foodie Gal, saying… “Thanks for letting me dish!”

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