I was cleaning my kitchen counters yesterday when it happened. My heart started pounding like a kick drum and I was overcome with the sensation that time was running out. The ice cream truck. Suddenly I was five years old and screaming for my mother.
Mom. The. Ice. Cream. Truck. Is. Here. We. Have. To. Get. Out. There. Now.
Every time I hear those eerie circus tunes blaring down the street I remember racing around in my socks scrounging enough quarters to get outside before Motorized Heaven drove away and rendered me Rocket-Pop-less. Missing that truck was like missing the school bus; it only happened a couple of times but the devastation was galactic.
I’m glad that ice cream trucks still exist. I wonder what kind of revenue they earn in a year and if they have marketing plans. If they decided to Tweet their routes, Johnny would have plenty of time to be on Main Street by 3:00 with wrinkled dollar bills in hand. I could see the truck concept working for wine or waffles or Netflix. Maybe even light bulbs. How cool would it be to have a battery truck? One thing's for sure: I’d work for drumsticks and chocolate eclairs.