Sarah V.
Yelp
This is entertaining... the owners of Odyssey Fun World reported to Yelp that my review was actually for the Zombie Hayride, which I assure you it was not, and had it removed. One, I would never attend anything relating to zombies. I can't even watch The Walking Dead. Two, I have never been on a hayride because I am allergic to hay. Therefore, this is extra comical to me that the owners would stoop so low as to remove my review, seeing as how it was popularly reviewed and had quite a few UFCs.
So for anyone who missed my original review, and for my own First Amendment, here is the review again : )
Do you dislike having fun? Do you hate well-thought-out seasonal activities? Do high prices get you excited? What about variety? Disdain that shiz, too? Well here ya go, you masochistic fiend! Odyssey Fun Farm has all that dreadful crap you love. Your little black heart can skip a beat with monstrous glee.
This year, Hubs decided he didn't want to drive all the way out to Bengtson's Pumpkin Farm in Homer Glen. He wanted to try something closer, and this little number popped up on Google in Tinley Park. F*ck you, Google. I thought we were cool. I am NOT Wednesday Addams. I do NOT enjoy being miserable. You clearly got the wrong memo, G. I'll be over at Bing from now on if you need me.
Once we pulled up to this decrepit and exhausted excuse of a pumpkin patch, I knew we had made the wrong choice. No, sorry, HUBS made the wrong choice. He still sleeps on the couch for this one. Not really, but I take my Halloween activities seriously, people. So this is still a dig I use with zing whenever possible. Admission to this hellhole is $11/person, with no chance of a refund. No matter how much it sucks. Someone was using their pumpkinhead when they thought of this fine print, because otherwise my sassypants would have waltzed right the eff back out and demanded my money back.
Unlike Bengston with its smooth-paved paths guiding you to quaint little barns and displays of beautiful gourds, Odyssey is more of the packed-down manure variety, with some large gravel thrown in to help you roll your ankle while you make your way to the poor livestock chained to turnstiles (I couldn't even walk by there without muttering epitaphs of pain for the animals). I want to chain those humans to the turnstiles and make them walk around in circles. Offensive costume required to maximize their miserable experience.
So instead of watching animals be tortured, we ventured to the "pumpkin patch" which was just a few small displays left of orange pumpkins. No Cinderellas, no variety, no gourds. Not even the tiny pumpkins were left. I will say that the few orange rollypollys left were half off. And thank God they were, because had I paid $14 instead of $7 for my big bertha of a pumpkin I would have gone HAM on someone.
After that little sidetrack, we wound through the corn maze that spanned a vast area and made me claustrophobic of being stuck in the outskirt of Chicago's southside. There were several children, actually, a lot of you little nerds looked more like tweens... anyway there were a lot of young people running through the maze trying to complete the Monopoly harvest scoreboard we were given when we entered. They looked like they were having a lot of fun. Good for them. And really, it wasn't THAT bad, but it wasn't great either. The more legitimate fear of that maze wasn't that you wouldn't find your way out, but that you'd wind up on the side of the highway.
In addition to the "patch" of pumpkins, I'm sorry I just can't call it that without the quotes. It isn't a freaking patch. It's a poor excuse for a pile of discarded pumpkins who had seen better days. Anyway, in addition to THAT and the corn maze and the animal cruelty demonstration, there are pig races, which also looked really sketch, a corn kernel pen to jump, and a LOT of country music playing loudly everywherealwayswithnoreprieveomgmakeitstop, and painted stands to stick your face in and smile and pretend like you're having fun. No thank you.
I think the most horrifying part of this tragedy is how nice the staff is. I want so much more for you, staff! You deserve more. Get the hell out of there and run for your lives!
Next year, I'm moving into Bengston's to wash the memory of this travesty from my autumnal experiences.