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The Joy of being an Ice Cream Truck Driver
A couple summers ago, I decided I was not going to take one more godawful low paying job. Instead, I would create my own godawful low paying job!
Thats right folks, I decided to become an ice cream truck driver. I converted my white van into an ice cream truck complete with side graphics and a sound horn, and hit the streets.
I had kids constantly run out in front of my truck, old men bitching about my sound, ice cream melting as the temp inside the truck went over 100. All this was compounded by the carnival music, the endless carnival music. The endless music burning passages in my brain so deep that I will surely hum it on my deathbed.
One of my worst SCs was a transaction that started normally enough. The man bought ice creams for his two sons. As I was serving other customers, the younger son opened up the wrapper and proceeded to dump the contents directly onto the hot concrete. You can guess what happened next.
The kids face was still screaming when I beckoned the dad over. "Hey buddy" I said smiling, "How about I give you another for your boy?" This ice cream is coming directly out of my pocket, remember.
He snatches it out of my hands without a thanks. Meanwhile, the other son has eaten half his ice cream and it now complaining "I don't like it", "I don't LIIIIIIIIIKE IT DAD!!!!". The dad turns to me.
"He doesn't like the taste. You give him another one too."
Such entitlement! I am now
"Not a chance" I tell him. He begins to argue, but then I do what so many service people wish they could. I simply press my foot quite firmly on the gas pedal and drive away leaving him sputtering on the sidewalk.
Anyway, I can't think of any more stories right at the moment, but if you have questions about ice cream truckery, just ask.
Thats right folks, I decided to become an ice cream truck driver. I converted my white van into an ice cream truck complete with side graphics and a sound horn, and hit the streets.
I had kids constantly run out in front of my truck, old men bitching about my sound, ice cream melting as the temp inside the truck went over 100. All this was compounded by the carnival music, the endless carnival music. The endless music burning passages in my brain so deep that I will surely hum it on my deathbed.
One of my worst SCs was a transaction that started normally enough. The man bought ice creams for his two sons. As I was serving other customers, the younger son opened up the wrapper and proceeded to dump the contents directly onto the hot concrete. You can guess what happened next.
The kids face was still screaming when I beckoned the dad over. "Hey buddy" I said smiling, "How about I give you another for your boy?" This ice cream is coming directly out of my pocket, remember.
He snatches it out of my hands without a thanks. Meanwhile, the other son has eaten half his ice cream and it now complaining "I don't like it", "I don't LIIIIIIIIIKE IT DAD!!!!". The dad turns to me.
"He doesn't like the taste. You give him another one too."
Such entitlement! I am now
"Not a chance" I tell him. He begins to argue, but then I do what so many service people wish they could. I simply press my foot quite firmly on the gas pedal and drive away leaving him sputtering on the sidewalk. Anyway, I can't think of any more stories right at the moment, but if you have questions about ice cream truckery, just ask.
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