wembleyheadsThe ice cream truck...
It was a beautiful summer day about two years ago, and I was in my apartment and heard the ice cream truck song coming from a few blocks away. I had never been to the ice cream truck, so, worried that I’d miss him, I hurriedly found some money and ran across the lawn of my apartment complex to be on the right side of the street when he approached. He saw me and slowed down. I was sooo giddy and excited. This is the kind of thing I’d only seen on tv! I’m from a farm, and it’s far too rural to get an ice cream man.
He pulled over to the curb and I approached the window of a kind-of-sketchy van. It was a regular van, with the seats pulled out and some equipment to keep the ice cream cold. It was sort of dirty and homemade with plywood and stuff. There were magnetic cling signs advertising the inventory adhered to the metal body. The driver was wearing normal clothes, instead of an ice cream man uniform. And he was talking on his cell phone in a language I could not discern. Nevertheless, I bounced up to the window and ordered a vanilla drumstick with nuts. He didn’t put down his phone or even stop talking as he handed me the cone and asked for my money.
Those who know me understand I’m very much in favor of immigrants and the entrepreneurial spirit. But I’m also keen on friendly customer service. I’m sure it sucks to be driving around really slow on scorching hot days, on crappy vinyl seats, with sky-high gasoline prices. Was I asking for too much? Perhaps. I parted with my cash and a childhood dream. At least it was nice to have tried. 4 years ago
