A Mr. Softee Dream

12/16/2012

You never can tell just how epic an evening will turn out to be until it is over and you are left feeling like you just woke up from a badass dream.  That was the eve that Katrina, Patrick and I had when we went out to see the Von Shakes gig at The Bitter End at the end of December.  Check out that show here..  cuz it was awesome.

The eve was pretty epic in itself with Santa Claus’ in various states of undress storming the stage for the last song of the show, the guys played great and the party continued at a bar around the corner.  Eventually it was time to play the ‘catch a taxi game.’  That night was not our night.  No one would stop for us and those that slowed down, quickly pulled away after hearing Kat say our destination. One of the rules of the NYC streets & trying to get back to Bushwick was never say your destination before your butt and all your belongings are firmly inside the cab. We were out there for quite some time and it was getting colder and it was starting to drizzle and get colder still and we were getting more and more dejected. I think we must have all looked quite forlorn when a Mr. Softee truck slowed and a friendly face popped out the window ‘Where y’all going?’

I figured it was worth an ask and hell, we could even be helpful on this bitter eve as the drunken folks spilled out of the bars.  Somehow we convinced him and all three of us were inside the back of a Mr. Softee truck heading through the West Village. It was either the start of a really bad movie or the best ride to Bushwick EVER.

IceCream John taught me how to make cones and add the sprinkles, it's all in the wrists, all in the wrists. I never graduated to milkshake making so we only sold cones. If someone asked for a milkshake they got a cone covered swirled by me then coated with sprinkles by Patrick with all our love and enthusiasm. Katrina was the money gal. She charged whatever bill they handed her. No change given. & not one complaint. We rallied crowds every time he stopped and everytime he started moving again, IceCream John blasted music for our epic dance parties in the back that had people on the streets craning their necks to peer in the windows. 

It may have taken over 2 ½ hours for a 35 min drive but it was the best ride ever.  We danced all the way to Brooklyn in the back of a Mr. Softee truck all the while serving ice cream to everyone.
In addition to his sainthood for driving our drunk asses home, IceCream John reached new heights of goodness as he felt that no one should go without so he would have us make mini cones for the homeless we passed. & with Katrina's 'no change' policy, he made a fortune.