God, I love global warming.
We’re a full two days past Christmas now and it has only snowed once so far. Today, the sun was out, the birds were singing, and it was a balmy 62 degrees. Because of this, I decided to go out for ice cream.
There’s a cute little frozen custard place one city over, so I hopped in my car and took a drive. When I got there, I noticed that they were having a ‘Buy two pints of ice cream, get one pint free’ promotion. There was a fat, older woman in line ahead of me taking advantage of the deal.
“Let me ask you something,” Fat Lady asked the young clerk behind the counter, “I’m going to be leaving these pints in my car for a few hours today. Do you think they’ll melt?”
There. That’s all it took to ruin my day. One stupid fucking question asked by a partially retarded fat lady is all takes to make the sky suddenly seem dreary and overcast. I think my skin is getting thinner in my old age.
The kid behind the counter wasn’t fairing any better than I was. “Uh….isn’t it kinda warm outside?” she cautiously asked the Fat Lady.
“But, you see, I don’t feel like going back home to put these in the freezer,” Fat Lady pressed, “And these are frozen solid….”
What the hell did she expect the girl to say? Yes Ma’am, our amazing non melting ice cream is guaranteed to stay completely frozen in a hot car for up to eight hours?
The sad part is I could see the panicked expression in the poor girl’s eyes. She was mentally weighing her options. On one hand, she could accurately inform a grown woman who should know better that ice cream, left in a hot car for hours, will likely melt. But then Fat Lady will only keep on bitching about how she doesn’t have time to run home as if the ice cream shop has personal control over the daily schedule of their customers. On the other hand, she could reassure the woman that her ice cream would not melt only to have her show back up in the store 4 hours later threatening to sue because butter pecan ruined her leather interior.
Finally, I butted myself into the conversation, “I leave my ice cream in the car all the time and it never melts.”
Fat Lady turned to me and said, “Really?”
“Oh yeah. Absolutely. I think it’s magic.”
My obvious sarcasm was lost on her and Fat Lady was properly pacified. She gathered up her pints of ice cream and waddled out of the shop pleased as Hell.
“What a fucking moron,” I said to the girl behind the counter.
“Definitely,” the girl agreed, “I just hope my shift ends before she comes back.”
“Well, you didn’t tell her the ice cream was magic. I did. So here’s my card. If she comes back, give her the card and tell her to sue me.”
The girl smiled gratefully and accepted my card. Her obvious relief was contagious and suddenly the day got brighter again. I may have just made myself the victim of yet another frivolous lawsuit, but hey, there are worse things in life.
Besides, I got a free ice cream cone out of the deal.
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