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  • I'm not a fan of strange phenomenons. Whether its $5 cupcakes, 25 Random Things About Me, or re-imagined frozen yogurt. BACKGROUND ---------------------- I bought way too many vegetables at the Wednesday night farmers market downtown. And I was determined to eat them all. Did you know that boiled beets suck? They make your whole damn place smell like feet. No one told me this. Anyway, 2 full days of eating nothing but healthy produce. Which is supposed to make one feel alive and organic and fibrous and whatever else. But it made me downright irate. And glum. And after my 10th bowl of salad, I had more than enough of a good thing. I needed junk. Immediately. Enter MoJo at the Biltmore, as I recall a friend who recently said, "Have you been to MoJo? It's awesome!!" And it happened to be open late on Friday night (till 11pm) and was just minutes away. Perfect. But I obviously hadn't been to the Biltmore in a while because I had no idea where Mojo was. I parked by the Borders and walked into the inner sanctum where the lawn is. There I found dozens of teenagers wandering around with blankets, throwing Cap'N Crunch at each other. Eh? I soon learned that the mall was playing "The Breakfast Club" just hours before and these kids were still not bored with their Stridex-ridden lives. Cap N' Crunch. In honor of whatshername's sandwich with the pixie stix. I all of a sudden felt ancient, as the Breakfast Club apparently had transformed into the Rocky Horror for this generation. I then see the blanketed Arcadia High scruffians slowly migrating somewhere, shuffling along with their flip-flops and bunny slippers, and I hear one say, "ohmygodtheoriginaltartissogood! Let's get some more!" Bingo. I walk behind them and they lead me back towards the south parking lot, where Mojo is situated right next to....Haagen Dazs? How does that make any sense? Anyway. SETTING ------------- Brightly colored inside with some seating area in the front, as well as a few outdoor tables. Two teenage girls at the register. A messy section of toppings. And the fro-yo dispensers in the back. Crowd: It's 10:30 pm on a Friday night. One middle aged couple - woman with bleachy hair, sun-damaged skin and fat gold necklace, man in shorts, braided belt, and loafers. And then teens. Lots and lots of teens. Talking about absolutely nothing of consequence. Mojo has become their new domain. PROCESS --------------- I go to the back, and all I see available is a stack of big, sundae-sized paper cups. Nothing in the size for. say, a single-serving. I take it Mojo must be pretty cheap since there's no prices posted, no scale to weigh as you go, and only these large cups available. A kid in front of me is going to town with the yogurt - pouring in at least 5 flavors and piling high. And so, when in Rome, make a Neapolitan - chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. Just like those sandwiches from my childhood ice cream truck. But the chocolate isn't coming out like soft serve. It's glopping haphazardly into my cup, as if it was a cross between Hershey's syrup and molasses. The vanilla's doing the same thing, but the strawberry's fine. I tell one of the girls working there about the trouble with the chocolate and vanilla. She...shrugs. It's the end of the night, apparently. They'll fix it tomorrow. I proceed to then add some toppings - some crumbled thin mints basically and then I hand my cup over to the girl to pay. JAW DROPS ------------------ $8.17. QUE?! $8.17 for frozen yogurt?!? Are you kidding me? What's worse is I can't just say, "Ha ha! Just kidding!" and walk out of there. I am now an owner of an $8.17 cup of half-gloppy Mojo yogurt. BUT THE TASTE! IT'S AWESOME! BECAUSE FRO-YO IS AWESOME! --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- No. NO? ------ I was bored after my 5th bite. Dessert wasn't meant to taste boring, and this stuff was boring. Maybe I don't like frozen yogurt. Or maybe theirs is just bad. I walked across the street, through the trip-tastic underpass, and sat on a planter of the Esplanade, trying to eat through the cup. In depressed silence. I gave up halfway through and threw the rest away. YOU"RE PISSED, AREN'T YOU ------------------------------------------- Of course, I am. I just spent a meal's worth of money on frozen yogurt. With no way of me checking how much it was going to cost, coming in as a first-timer. But Mojo's business process is not alone in angering me, for my quiet rage shakes its fist at the salad bars of AJ's and Whole Foods, too. *grits teeth* WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE? ------------------------------------------- Small cups would be nice. Plus a small scale and a sign simply saying, "Mojo costs $.xx/ounce. Be wise." Also? Non gloppy chocolate and non-shruggy employees who charge me 8 McDonald's cheeseburgers for a cup of dubiousness. IN SUMMATION --------------------- 2 stars, for making me angry at dessert. Bah.
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