Once I read an article about a guy in Queens selling pot out of the back of his ice cream truck. Apparently, he was caught because the police pulled him over due to the fact that his loud jingle was annoying people. I guess people who smoke pot enough that the ice cream man is their dealer, need a loud jingle to pull their attention away from talking about deep stuff or reading High Times or whatever it is that pot smokers do.
Anyway, he must have felt like he was running the perfect business: bring people the marijuana and the munchies. With alliteration like that, it’s a shame he couldn’t post an ad on the side of his truck.
So, I found all of this business humorous until I moved into my current neighborhood where every day, about 8098723498 times a day, a man walks by my house with his ice cream cart (think: those little push things you see on the beach), dinging his little bell to sell ice cream.
Two things would make me less suspicious that this guy isn’t pulling a repeat of Mr. Queens:
1) If I EVER saw a SINGLE kid/person purchase ice cream from him. But I haven’t. Not once. And it’s July. And it’s hot. This is prime ice cream selling time.
2) If he looked like an ice cream guy and not a drug dealer. Seriously, throw on a white chef suit or something. The baggy jeans and bandanna do not work for “ice cream salesman.”
Alas, the “ice cream guy” appears to be a staple of the neighborhood. He, the rims on my neighbor’s car, and the guy two doors up who looks like Tommy Lee.
Rosie, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Buckhead anymore.