Teenage-Approved: Staffer returns to cherished childhood stores

During my elementary school summers, my mom took me to all the classic spots — Ceramic Cafe, Kaleidoscope, Wonderscope — to keep me from bingeing “Good Luck Charlie” all day. Wanting to see if my past scenes still live up to the hype, I decided to return to two of my old go-to’s: Build-a-Bear and Fritz’s.

Build-a-Bear

My seventh birthday was legendary — all 10 of my friends gathered in the Oak Park Mall Build-a-Bear trying to decide between the white Halloween ghost or the purple bunny with Hannah Montana-esque blonde bangs. 

Considering the stuffed animals craze died down after I stopped relying on my stuffed lamb — Lamby — to fall asleep, my expectations were pretty low when I decided to return. Although Build-a-Bear was overpriced and a little childish for teens, their creative business model which included printable birth certificates, clothes for all events and vibrating hearts to mimic an animal heartbeat made my outing more of a hands-on experience than aimlessly roaming the mall.

Walking in, I was directed to 10 bins full of animals from a holiday-themed sloth to a Darth Vador bear lined up in order of price full of un-stuffed animals. Living on a $40-a-week-nannying budget, I made a beeline to the cheaper end of the bins and picked out the least expensive animal I could find — a brown teddy bear with “Happy Birthday” patches on the feet. It wasn’t my birthday, but for $12.99, it’ll do. 

The college-age employee who introduced herself as “Kimbearly” then guided me and my bear corpse over to a glass machine to fill it with cotton. After getting the perfect fluff-to-bear ratio, the worker walked me through the “crucial” process of rubbing the cloth heart over my heart, lips and head and instructed me to insert the heart into the bear before sewing it up — as a 17-year-old, that childish process felt more uncomfortable than sentimental.

Next, my bear was ready to be dressed. The flip sequin Santa dress was enticing, but the $16 price tag turned me away. Instead, I found the cheapest clothing item in the store — a grungy red button down for $7. Having to sacrifice the purchase of a pair of pants to spare my bank account was disappointing, especially since the overpriced clothes are made out of about 10 square inches of fabric.

After waiting behind a little girl and her mom as they rung up a $67 unicorn equipped with fairy wings, a dress and carrying bag, the cashier announced my total as $22. 

Although I didn’t rack up the price by getting 20 extra accessories like a voice recording or the iconic Build-a-Bear carrying box, I don’t think it took away from my experience. However, since I was the only one in the store who wasn’t a mom or girl under the age of eight, I felt very out of place and I won’t be getting too much use out of my bear now that my fantasy tea party days are over.

FRITZ’S

I’m six years old, perched on the blue Fritz’s booth, pointing at every train that rattles by above my head and hoping one of them holds my cheeseburger and crinkle fries. After returning 10 years later, my hands hovered over the greasy table and everywhere I looked there was a middle-aged mom angrily shushing her kids.

My first concern walking in was a sign asking for people aged 12 and up to pay for the conductor’s hat. But, trying to get the full experience, I forked over the 25 cents and followed the hostess to our table. 

Without looking at the menu, I already knew I wanted to order my old go-to — the bacon cheeseburger, crinkle fries and an Oreo shake. Picking up the landline-style phone used to order, my hands shook a little with anxiety — something about actually having to talk over the phone threw me for a loop.After the waitress asked me to repeat my order several times due to the clattering trains and overly-excited kids, all I had to do was watch the trains above and wait. The milkshake was brought to my table after a quick five-minute wait and was exactly as I remembered it — thick, but not so thick that it can’t get through the straw, and rich with chunks of oreo and vanilla ice cream.

I eagerly stood up on the booth (which apparently is not as socially acceptable once you pass the age of six), to grab the cargo box, immediately noticing the lack of plates. Eating a burger off of wax paper at a sit down restaurant was a little repulsive — something I never paid attention to as a six year old.

After stacking up napkins to have somewhere to squirt my ketchup, I dug into the bacon cheeseburger. It was good, but not anything special — similar to a Freddy’s burger. The crinkle fries weren’t much better as they were a little dry, but the problem was quickly solved by dipping them in my milkshake leftovers.

The price of the meal was reasonable at $12.38, but the atmosphere hits a little different as a teenager. Instead of being engrossed in the trains weaving in and out of the walls, I was constantly yelling, “What?” over the rattling tracks to my friends on the other side of the table. And with a meal I can find at almost every fast food place, I don’t think it’s necessary to take any special trips down to Crown Center for a mediocre-at-best burger.