The Cinnabon Escapade

So in my excitement over wanting cinnamon rolls, I hit publish instead of save, and didn't notice it right away. Instead of editing the post, I'll share with you the exciting adventure that was Tuesday afternoon.

So cinnamon rolls got me thinking, the absolute best place to get a cinnamon roll is Cinnabon. That gooey filling and almost-but-not-quite underbaked dough, slathered with enough cream cheese frosting to cover a dozen carrot cake cupcakes and give you an instant cavity. Oh yes. I wanted one. So I pondered and considered the merits of getting the satisfaction of a perfect sugarcoma-inducing Cinnabon against said sugar-coma that was sure to come, and realized this would be a really, really bad idea if my glucose testing numbers came back high. So I came up with the logical conclusion to share it with Andy so he can have a sugar-coma too and called him to beg him to take me to the mall to get one on our way home from work.

Being the logical person that he is, he reminds me that the Cinnabon might have been closed, so maybe check before we drive out there. I giddily spring over to the Cinnabon website and discover that not only is there no longer one open at the mall, there also aren't any within a 10 mile radius of our house (which is ridiculously far in DC), unless you count the airport one. Defeated by distance, I sadly emailed Andy to tell him that he wouldn't have to stop. My one consolation was the possibility of getting one when I flew out to California next month.

My crushing disappointment was soon over when I remembered that the Cinnabon is outside of security at Sacramento airport, so I might get lucky with Reagan too. A quick search of the interactive map to the goodness available in Reagan (recently checked out to see dinner options for my sister's flight back home) revealed that Cinnabon was in fact, within my reach. Mere steps from the doors in Terminal B.

I put on my best persuasively cute voice and called up Andy to tell him my fantastic find and gee, the airport is right on our route home and it's just inside the doors and I could run in real quick to just get a little something. CINNABON, honey! Can't you feel my excitement?! Being the sweet husband that he is, he agrees and eventually we head home while I'm salivating like a dog with rabies.

As would be expected, the other route we would take home were I not obsessing about my impending cinnamon roll has no traffic while our path is full of morons who can't figure out the difference between the gas and the brake. But we bravely soldiered on, rolling slowly (and suddenly braking as people decide to change lanes last minute) towards the yellow brick road to satisfaction. Eventually we get to the airport, and I tell Andy to drop me off at these doors, that looks like roughly where I want to go but I'll meet you downstairs because oops, we're at ticketing, and that's definitely not right.

I find an elevator right inside and go down two floors. To baggage claim. Which clearly isn't right because there is no food here. I walk along trying to see if the stores mentioned on the map are perhaps further down. Nope. I keep going until I find another escalator and head back up to the next floor. Ah yes, there's the overpriced bookstore by which I had oriented myself on the map. It must be right past this. Okay, maybe a little further. Okay, I guess this store is bigger than I thought. For the love of God, how big is this place, I just want to find the....oh, there it is.

I saunter up the counter, wallet in hand for the procurement of utter deliciousness. A counter which is devoid of any human presence. I glance around wondering if the person just ran off to do...something, and then I saw it. That cheery little sign announcing "We'll return at 5!" It was 4:47 according to the Arrivals board, but I really didn't want Andy to go crazy driving in circles. And of course, my cell phone was dead, so I couldn't just tell him I would be waiting.

Defeated and thoroughly lacking in Cinnabon goodness, I trudged back out to the pick-up zone. Luckily I had timed that part perfectly, and he drove up immediately, with a confused expression for my lack of Cinnabon. So I still haven't had Cinnabon, though we're planning on going shopping today at a mall that has one. With my luck, they will run out and I just have to make my own damn cinnamon rolls.