Does This Pumpkin Make Me Look Basic?

There’s no fairy godmother at these pumpkin patches, so why all the hype?

Megan Orr, Opinions Editor // Photo by Kiel Mapoles

Like most things in life, I was expecting to be disappointed by my first pumpkin patch. Unfortunately, I was right. I tried really, really hard to like it. There was even a part of me that was gleeful as I wandered around that farm, fiddle music and children’s laughter filling the air. I pet a horse, and admired the chickens and goats. I saw a kid (human) fall and I laughed. It was a beautiful autumn afternoon, with the makings of a perfect day. My boyfriend’s hand in mine, I had every intention of enjoying this experience. I swear, I tried.

            My first mistake was picking a pumpkin patch in the city, a rookie decision I now realize. All the real ones are at least an hour’s drive away, and I didn’t have time for that (I did, but I just didn’t want to). I didn’t realize that this meant it was a farm/market lazily turned into a pumpkin patch, where they would just have little pumpkins haphazardly placed about, rather than my expectation of seeing monster gourds growing all over the place. Forget a horse-drawn carriage, these wouldn’t have even been big enough for Cinderella’s mice!

My second mistake was in thinking that I would enjoy this type of experience at all, when history has repeatedly told me that it’s really not my thing. I get anxious in crowds, annoyed when people walk slowly and am generally the type of person that says, “Is this it?” a lot. That was it, as it turns out. It was fine, but nothing worth writing home about (although apparently worth writing about in the Courier). If I was the type of person to enjoy meandering or lazing about, then sure, maybe this would have been more my speed.

Even though I did sincerely try to have fun, I think my biggest mistake was in the judgment I was making about the types of people who do enjoy pumpkin patches. I remember telling someone a few years ago that I really wanted to go to a pumpkin patch and the guy scoffed and said, “Yeah I bet you do. Probably want to drink a pumpkin spice latte and wear your Uggs too, hey basic bitch?” First of all, rude. But secondly, what’s wrong with liking things that other people like? Pumpkin spice lattes are delicious, and Uggs are warm and comfortable. Still, the comment rubbed me the wrong way. I didn’t want to be like everyone else, I couldn’t be.

I think the pumpkin patch and I were destined to fail. There was too much internalization about what kind of person it would make me if I enjoyed it. I understand the appeal, and I will maybe try again next year at a real pumpkin patch and see if the enlarged pumpkins peak my fancy. Definitely a fun place for families, all the cute babies and kids – adorable! For me, however – meh. Overall, a pleasant experience, but not somewhere I would be overly eager to go again. Maybe I am more of a wicked stepsister than a Cinderella type anyways.

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