So Wed night Misty says that she would like to get a dipped soft serve cone on the way home. Okay, easy enough! We make a small detour to the nearest purveyor of drive thru ice cream and place our order. The order taker seemed confused by this daunting task and let us know that he would perform the calculus it takes to figure out the cost and tell us at the second window. We pull up to see a small guy in his early twenties, headset and stained shirt in place, working the soft serve machine. By working, I mean WORKING! I guess I had never taken the time to ponder what amazing feat of manual dexterity it is to create this work of art. Our little helper, we'll call him Paco, (cause that's what his name tag said), was on his second try and having no luck. He rather forcefully tossed the second fiasco into the trash and started on the third cone. Little beads of sweat appeared in his furrowed brow as he tried to ever so slightly work the push/pull motion that gives the soft serve it's trademark arab palace roof look! I turned to Misty and said,"I don't think this is gonna be quite what you expected..."
Boy was I right!!! Three tries is all you get in this drive thru and Paco had given up! He took his last attempt, dipped it twice and handed us a regular cone topped with what looked like one of those fake dog turds you can buy at a store like Spencer Gifts! I mean really this could've easily been the mold for the latest model. I quietly paid my $1.63 and nodded farewell to a sheepish Paco and drove ten feet before I burst out laughing! I couldn't help but look at Misty, who was taking in this disaster from every angle, deciding where to begin her attack if at all and exclaim, "You wanted it! Now,....EAT YOUR POOP!" Childish I know but worth the laughter. Thanks Paco. Better luck next time man!
