Monday, May 10, 2004

I scream

I want to talk about ice cream. Specifically Mr. Softee ice cream and how freaking expensive it is. All I want lately are chocolate milkshakes. This is admittedly an addiction that's gotten a little out of control, as I can't let myself have a milkshake every single day, what with the money and a well balanced diet and the coughing all that cold provokes in the back of my throat. But that hasn't stopped me from wanting one.
On Friday I approached two Mr. Softee trucks kitty corner to one another on Broadway and Spring Street which were vending cones for an astronomical three dollars. That's more than Hagan Daaz and Ben & Jerry’s. I love me some Mr. Softee, but it's not made with the world's best cream and sugar and fudge and nuts and heath bar. It doesn't come on a sugar cone. It's the yummiest tasteless food in the world, but it's still tasteless. The cost is especially enraging when I know that prices fluctuate according to neighborhood. I got a cone for $1.25 on 106th street the other day.
Anyway, today I wanted a milkshake. Mr. Softee said it was four dollars. I asked him if I could pay him three. Because I’m poor. And cheap. He said no. I said he made the prices. He said no. I said, but they change depending on the neighborhood. He said no, which wasn't actually an appropriate answer. I said, but the ice cream costs the same for you all over NYC, so you're still making money off a three-dollar milkshake if vendors sell it for three dollars at other locations. He said no. So I walked away, feeling defeated and gross for arguing about milkshake prices. And then I went and bought a Frappucino. Which cost less.

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