The Beautiful Kind

Proof that the Bible is a bunch of crap.

After much dreaded anticipation, kind of like knowing your favorite fuck buddy with stellar oral skills is applying for out-of-state jobs and will be moving away though you’re not exactly sure when, the tacky and legendary Noah’s Ark in St. Charles was officially demolished a couple weeks ago.

I stifled a sob as I drove by the caved in pile of time-bleached timber, all my memories, the good, the bad, and the silly stirred by the sight of the sacrilegious rubble:

1. As a kid, going there with my grandparents when they came in town. The place was swank and family happenin’, with concrete and fiberglass animals galore and a big bar and kiddie cocktails with maraschino cherries and luminescent giraffe swizzle sticks. You could throw coins at the gaping hippo in the fountain outside the restaurant, and the servers wore safari hats. Bearded Noah proudly stood on top of the ship in his white robe, a dove in his outstretched hand.

2. At age 20, I had my first miscarriage at the adjoining Noah’s Ark motor lodge. By then the restaurant was run down and seedy as hell, with sad little aquariums built into the walls next to the booths and filled with desperately horny guppies. The taxidermied zebras and antelopes in the glass-enclosed hall displays were flea bitten and faded. I got cramps during our crappy dinner (I think I ate an ostrich burger) and spent the rest of the evening alternately bleeding in the bathtub and having sex with my beyond-cool boyfriend at the time. I wasn’t sure who the father of the fetus was, so we were glad to see it go.

3. At age 33, going there with my 6 year old daughter, the place dilapidated and on the brink of being torn down. My friend who lived in Pittsburgh drove through St. Louis and buried an obscene postcard for me to find using clues. I followed his clues and ended up at Noah’s Ark. Traffic rushed by as my daughter and I scoured the parking lot, searching for the buried postcard. We investigated the perimeter, clumps of weeds, dirt piles littered with beer bottles, and on the verge of giving up - SUCCESS! - finally found it in one of the rock gardens.

At least they’re going to replace the Ark with something worthwhile - an accessible community aqautics center. And word has it the remaining animal statues (giraffes and an elephant) will be restored and put on display in the new building.