It's that time of year again. Now that the weather in New York is finally feeling like Spring, that can mean only one thing: The ice cream truck is back. I always loved the ice cream truck as a kid, and I can still remember being really excited when the truck would be parked outside of my elementary school. Well, I was a dumb kid back then, and like most dumb kids I liked a lot of things that I realize are pointless today (like Play-doh, picking my nose and rooting for the Jets).
Now, I have no beef with Mister Softee or Kustard King's selections, they peddle soft-serve ice cream, which is hard to come by particularly in the city. But the generic truck like the one that parked outside of my grammar school (it just said DANNY on it) sells the same shit that Ahmed sells to me for half of the price at the local corner store. If DANNY or whoever else sat quietly and waited for people to come to him or had some other sort of viral campaign to signal his arrival, I'd actually be cool with him. But he insists on playing that God damned song. I suppose this was good marketing though, since there aren't too many things I can instantly recall within seconds. I know that shit better than my first name. But that same 8 bar tune played on a nonstop loop must be the soundtrack to the slow journey into insanity (full disclosure, my bedroom faces a busy street).
The selection hasn't changed at all in the past 20 years either. They serve the same mixture of King Cones, Drumsticks and Good Humor bars (which I have to admit are incredible) as they did when "The Hogan Family" was still on. I'm all for nostalgia, but it's time for a change, fellas. Mix it up a little. Throw in some sour patch kids or Sun Chips, or there's no reason that we can't walk a couple extra feet to our local Optimo for our summer treats.
And lastly, ice cream truck driver has to be the employer of the shadiest people this side of a barber shop. Have you ever seen these guys? I know the only requirements are to be able to drive, count out change and sit in one place for 15 minutes, but most of these dudes look like they were on a work release program from Oz. Do we really want Adabesi serving Choco Tacos to our kids?
I hate you, ice cream man.
Disclaimer: Again, my bedroom faces a busy street.
