Friday, April 23, 2010

A single or a double cone?

I was lounging on a friend's couch tonight (recovering from this cold in different scenery) and enjoying the breeze through the open window. No, that's a lie. I was begging them to close the window because there was such a ruckus outside that I couldn't hear the movie. Someone got up to close it and realized that the commotion was actually a fire in the building across the street. So we decided that we should go outside and try to snag ourselves some firemen. While we were putting on our shoes and doing some primping, the firetrucks pulled away. They obviously put the fire out or decided it was a false alarm. And then the real distraction started. It was feint at first, but got louder and louder and LOUDER. At the same time, we looked up and yelled ICE CREAM TRUCK! The girls finished putting their shoes on while I screamed out the window at the driver, "WE'RE COMING." He either didn't hear or ignored me because after we ran down the steps and out the door, all we could see was his taillights down the street. Well, dammit, I wanted my ice cream so I chased after him, leaving the girls in my wake. I finally caught up to him and pounded on the rear of the truck and he stopped. When the girls caught up, we ordered our ice cream. Always the outspoken one, I asked if I could see what the truck looked like from the inside. Apparently the driver had never been asked that question because he gave me the blankest look ever. After he got over his shock, he said one minute (or gave the "1 minute" hand motion), disappeared to straighten things up a bit (candy wrappers? porn? Dunkin Donuts boxes?), and then opened the driver's side door and invited me in. It was quite spacious inside; I mean, I wouldn't want to prepare a four-course meal in there but it's definitely adequate for some dessert prep. Come to think of it, it wasn't that much smaller than my kitchen. But not nearly as beautifully decorated!

And here I am, serving the girls their ice cream. Unfortunately, they were bad tippers. If that were my truck, I wouldn't stop for them again!

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