Prince used to frequent the frozen yogurt shop I worked at (2024)

It was in the mid-1990s. Chanhassen Minnesota, where Prince’s princely estate Paisley Park is located, is next to the town I lived and worked in, Eden Prairie. He preferred the shop’s drive-thru, for obvious reasons.

There were always 2 employees working the drive-thru. We both wore headsets, one of us at the window taking money and handing out the orders, the other creating the frozen yogurt concoctions. There were buttons we could push on our headsets to communicate with each other without customers hearing us in their car. On this particularly slow early evening (most people don’t get frozen yogurt for dinner), I was the one making treats and my coworker Josh worked the window.

We hadn’t had a new drive-thru order in a bit so I went to the bathroom. While trying to pee, I suddenly I heard a breathy male voice in my headset say “Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch….ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah…”

I pushed the button on my headset. “Quit being creepy, Josh!” I whisper-yelled.

Silence.

I went into the storage room looking for pint-sized cups to restock when I heard the Friday the 13th score again. “Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch….ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah…” This time I laughed but also nervously looked around all the stacked boxes. Lots of hiding places in a storage room.

When I returned to the front of the house I switched with Vanessa who was working the register for inside dining. Sometime after she put on the headset, she and Josh got a car at the drive-thru. Something in the air shifted.

After they handed the order to the car and it drove away, Vanessa and Josh darted over to me excitedly started talking over each other. “That was Prince!”

Of course he arrived after I’d switched with Vanessa.

I like to imagine he was blasting “Erotic City” when he pulled up to the window for his frosty treats

They told me he was driving a sports car with really dark tinted windows and he was “super polite”. I was privately wondering why he never happened to come when I was working the drive-thru.

Then one day I was making a parfait and when I turned around and handed it to the customer, I saw a statuesque pregnant woman in heels enter the store behind them. I instantly recognized her. It was Prince’s wife, Mayte. She could tell I recognized her. Celebrities can always tell when someone’s eyes linger a little longer on their faces, there’s a silent acknowledgment that we’re all suddenly hyper aware of their presence. She ordered two items to-go and smiled when I handed her the bag. Then she walked out the door and that’s all I remember.

I grew up in the suburbs of Minneapolis at the time Purple Rain dropped 40 years ago. The album was released on June 25th of 1984, the biopic came out in theaters a month later. Prince had been a hometown hero for a while already, with hits like “1999” and “Little Red Corvette”, but this album was the game-changer. The songs felt more personal, an intimate window into the private life of a musical genius.

There’s never been a cooler album cover or movie poster and that’s a hyperbole hill I’ll die on

I’ll never forget first watching the music video for “When Doves Cry” on MTV. I was 9 or 10 years old and all I knew was this skinny biracial pop star with a head of hair to die for was emerging naked from a bathtub and I was both mesmerized and confused. I knew by the song’s lyrics there was some deep sh*t going on but what that was, I had no clue. I’ve since been clued in: he’s singing about how he fears his romantic relationships being too much like his parents’ relationship.

I had the Purple Rain cassette tape and even though the entire album is brilliant my favorite songs were “I Would Die 4 U” and “Let’s Go Crazy”. I remember sitting by my boom box waiting for his songs from later albums to play so I could pounce and hit “record” for my mix tapes.

My mom, sister, and I moved to Eden Prairie in 1990. When we first arrived there was a tiny bridge with a road underneath that only one car could drive through at a time. I remember admiring the spray-painted artworks while waiting so the cars on our side of the bridge could go. The suburb was just starting to expand, so the bridge was a relic from its small town days. I’m sure Prince fans already know where this is going: it was the inspiration for his 1990 movie Graffiti Bridge. It was later torn down to build roads that would serve the population boom.

When Graffiti Bridge was destroyed, fans collected pieces as keepsakes

My first boyfriend was a boy named Justin. We met in our high school and were kindred spirits in as much as teenagers can be: we were 15-year-old energetic slackers and mall rats. We were good kids for the most part, except for the couple of times we skipped class to goof off at the mall. On one of those occasions, we were munching on french fries in the food court when I asked him if he’s always lived in Eden Prairie.

“Nope”, he replied. “I was born in California. My mom moved here because she’s obsessed with Prince.”

My face said “Whatchu talkin’ bout, Willis?”

But my mouth said, “No way—really?”

Long story short, he told me all about how his mom fell in love with Prince and used to constantly send him fan mail, which went unanswered. That’s when she graduated to moving Justin and his little sister to Minnesota and showing up to Paisley Park Studios at random times in failed attempts to meet the world-famous singer, oftentimes with Justin and his kid sister at her side.

For some stupid-ass reason, none of this sounded like stalking to my teenaged brain. Instead of being horrified for Justin, I was fascinated and in awe of the exciting life he’d had. I listened with wide eyes as Justin described his mom buzzing Prince’s security and eventually being escorted or forced off the premises.

Justin’s mom moved them back to California by the end of the school year so I guess she got over Prince before doing something that would’ve landed her in prison.

Fast forward a little more than 10 years, this time my new boyfriend Shane is the one obsessed with Prince. Well, “obsessed” is probably unfair. Shane was just a HUGE fan, more than me or anyone else I ever knew. When I told him I’d never seen Prince’s 1986 movie Under the Cherry Moon, he saw that as a wrong that needed to be righted. So he took me to a midnight showing of the film at a small theater in Minneapolis.

We walked around the corner of the street the theater was located to see a large group standing in front waiting for the box office to open. One of these patrons was sporting a floor-length purple leather coat with Prince’s face painted on the back. His face took up almost every square inch. I mean, his chin was practically on the ground.

I was grateful we got good seats in the middle toward the back. As much as I was curious to watch Prince’s directorial debut, I’ll be honest— I was bored stiff. To this day, I can’t tell you what that movie is about.

But things perked up when some guy a few rows behind us yells out “Hey everyone! Look at Prince when he enters this scene—his dick is HARD!” Sure enough, his dick was hard. Thanks to that guy’s keen observation and public service announcement, that’s the only part of the film I remember.

Then a bit later some woman a row in front of us yelled something out too, but I don’t remember what. I only remember another woman shushing her, to which the first lady replied “Girl, please. If you ain’t seen this movie yet—there’s something wrong with you.” I had to stifle my laughter.

Shane later revealed that he belonged to a Prince fan club of some sort that email notified him whenever Prince opened up Paisley Park as a private nightclub. Now THIS was exciting.

“Sometimes he even makes an appearance and performs with his guitar on stage”, Shane said. So the next time he received an invitation, I got to be his Plus 1. It was fun, but unfortunately Prince didn’t regale us with his presence that night. It was the frozen yogurt shop all over again.

From the outside, PP Studios looks like one of those private medical facilities run by a billionaire doing secret tests, but on the inside it’s a carnival for the artist’s soul

Prince’s death in 2016 shocked me. He was far too young to go, but he left behind one helluva legacy. He was ahead of his time in some ways, a product of his time in others. During a time when men were expected to conform to rigidly presenting as traditional MEN, he wore high-heeled boots, eyeliner, and sang “If I Was Your Girlfriend”. The ‘70s and ‘80s were rad like that—manly bands were wearing makeup and long hair and singing about cherry pies and chicks were lining up to be their groupies. Prince created and performed with vulnerability and masculinity seamlessly intertwined, expressing sex appeal and raw emotion in harmony.

The Artist Formerly Known as a Symbol helped put Minneapolis on the music map, and First Ave is still a thriving scene