Mugs and Mugshots

Our family is preparing to go on vacation. We are going far, far away this year to the bustlin' metropolis of Branson, MO. (No, no... please put away your banjo.) Now, as I consider my travel plans, I must tell you that this year I am taking some extra precautionary measures. I am in need of a Sharpie though. Anyone got a Sharpie?!

Still recently enough that I haven't yet let go of my grudge, Jim and I visited Branson's Silver Dollar City. If you are unfamiliar with the place, it's like an amusement park with an oldtimey, hillbilly feel. Think blacksmiths, woodcarvers, bonnets, tintype photographs, steam engines, and cloggers. Mix that in with water slides, roller coasters, and thrill rides aplenty, and well... there you have it. It's a fun place, and if you've lived in the area long, you've probably been too many times to count.

So on with the story. I began to say that Jim and I visited SDC last year. Silver Dollar City, like any tourist-oriented venue, is out to make a profit. The locals sometimes refer to the place as "Steal Your Dollar City," but that part is okay with me. I've, after all, purchased the tickets and, in that gesture, am accepting of the costs. I do appreciate the opportunity to save money at the park when the occasion arises, however. And here, at this point of the story, enters in the coveted "Silver Dollar City mug". Let's take a moment for some explanation.

For as long as I can remember, Silver Dollar City has offered these themed mugs at each and every cart, restaurant, corner, nook, or cranny within its boundaries. When I was little, they used to be glass mugs in the shape of a boot. These days, they are simply plastic mugs with close-up pictures of people screaming wildly as they accelerate down the incline of a featured park roller coaster. But nevertheless, despite their changing appearance over the years, the mugs have been a traditional product offered up for your consumer satisfaction.


When you buy one of these mugs, you rake in the perks of discounted beverages galore. And if you remember to bring the mug back each year (even still with those nostalgic glass boot ones, I'm pretty sure) you continue to save the bucks when whetting your tastebuds again and again. There is no limit to the beverage fun!


Jim and I purchased one of these mugs last year. We enjoyed using it to sip our colas and frozen lemonades. We were happy and our drinking needs were quenched... but then I sat on a bench.


Things turned ugly without warning as I was waiting for Jim and Jack to appear at the exit point of a roller coaster. I was pregnant with Emma at the time and could not ride. So instead I picked out a shady spot and sat. Remember, I was not parched at all. I had my mug on the bench beside me, see. People-watching helped to pass the time while I waited for the boys. And I was not thirsty. Whitney and her mug... sitting on a bench. The mug was to the left. The mug with the pictures of the happy, screaming people was sitting to the left.


But what's this?!!! (See how I'm shifting tenses? That's to let your subconscious know of the dramatic shift in excitement level that's happening right now. Are you leaning forward toward the screen?) A lady is suddenly sitting way too close to me on my left. That's weird. She's two inches away from me, and there's no one on the other side of her. Seriously, she's too close to me. I feel awkward. But she's scooting away now. That's better. We exchange polite glances, and I go back to people watching. What do you know? It occurs to me that I'm feeling a little thirsty. Good thing I have my Silver Dollar City muuuu....


Where's my mug?! Odd. It was right there next to my leg just a second ago. I look down at the bench. I look on the ground underneath the bench. I look behind the bench. I look at the lady, and she looks at me. I look to my right. I look back to the left. I look at the ground again. I look at the lady again. And then it begins... the web of lies.


"What are you looking for?" she says to me.


"My mug," I say.


"Oh? When did you last see it?" she says.


"Um, right before you sat down," I say.


"Oh? Well, that's so weird. That's just odd. I have a mug, but see, (pulling out an exact replica of my missing mug from her stroller) I always put my initials on the bottom of my mug, so that when this happens, I know which mug is mine."


I say nothing, but instead, I continue with my searching looks toward her and all of the other little places in her stroller that she could've stashed my mug. She reads my mind and offers to show me all of the hidden compartments of her stroller and the fact that they are empty of stolen mugs.


"That's just too bad. Those mugs are very valuable," she says. "They save you a lot of money in the long run. I always label my mug with my initials so that mine doesn't ever get mixed up." (She again shows me the black initial on the bottom of her stupid, stinkin' cup.) Her case is rock solid.

At this point, I don't know what to do. She's a smart one, folks. And I concede the fact that she has won this go 'round.


And then returns Jim. I tell him the story, get mad all over again, and he joins me in my fury at the obvious thievery of the Silver Dollar City mug.


I wish this story had a happen ending. But it doesn't. We even went so far as to launch a sting operation and spy on the lying woman for some time after the episode. We planned to catch her redhanded, in the act of running the same scam on another poor, defenseless victim. We imagined ourselves ripping off her mask (Scooby Doo style) and shouting for the hillbilly authorities. But it never happened. The woman has our mug to this day. We just know it.

A sketch of the perpetrator.

That's why I'm currently rummaging in a drawer for a Sharpie. If nothing else, I did learn the importance of labeling my mug with my initials "so that when this happens, I'll know which mug is mine." Here we come on vacation, Silver Dollar City! We're bringing our stinkin' mug.