Wednesday, January 30, 2008

In Which We Learn Some Past

Ever since I was a young slip of a thing, I always had a fondness for Ice Cream Trucks. It was always one of those things where the expectation led up to a let down; the ice cream was never as delicious as imagined. But oh the designs! I remember a rocket ship, or one that looked like a gingerbread man (that tasted like ginger, I think) and one with a Mario face that was called "Italian Plumber." They were the great expectations of my childhood - something that never quite lived up to what was promised, but nevertheless a wonderful thing I looked forward to on hot summer days playing in the backyard with my dog. I had precious few friends ever since the incident where we all were wearing our shirts as capes and they had made fun of my breasts.

Today I had an evolved form of that feeling, that longing for ice cream. I was driving to work on 101, and passed by a Dreyer's Ice Cream truck. One that transports frosty cold ice cream to stores, not one that sells ice cream to hungry Senior Administrative/Marketing Assistants. My urge was not to rush up and give them money, but rather to swerve my car, causing the truck to swerve and flip over, therefore spilling the delicious ice cream treats for all passers by. People would rejoice as the different flavors mixed and mingled and the driver of the truck was not hurt, only hungry for some ice cream. It would start a new wave of peace and prosperity, one that would bring ice cream for all!

But with my luck, the truck was probably full of illegal immigrants.

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