I have a strong belief in what the root of all evil is, and if you’re interested in what that is, I suggest looking at this: Album for Ajajadude
But, that’s not what I want to focus on. Oh, no it’s not. The second root of all evil is ice cream. You heard it here first, folks. Now, while you’re picking the wax out of your ears and ask yourself if you heard me right, I’ll say it again: it’s ice cream. Before you all turn into primates and begin flinging feces at me, just listen a second.
The drug store I work at has, for some ungodly reason, a little section for ice cream. Not like pint sized Ben & Jerry’s or a gallon of Dreyer’s. No. This is one like you would find at a Baskin and Robbins, where WE scoop YOU ice cream. Yeah, awwwww, it sucks major ass being on that other side of the glass being elbow deep in cream that has been iced. Not only have I, and others, actually tweaked, torn and pulled muscles doing this damned service, I’ve actually gotten into heated arguments about our ice cream service. Before I go off topic and start talking about the ozone problem and Iraq, let me move on here.
Naturally, since the ice cream department isn’t a big money maker for the store, no one sits behind the counter all day. Just not very economical. This is where the first problem rears it’s ugly head. People, not remember I work in a DRUG STORE, expect that we keep someone behind the counter at all hours, and get kinda pissy when they have to wait. So, this is point number one: ice cream makes people think that this service is one of their constitutional rights. The great thing is that NO ONE ever knows what they want right away. So, I like to wait a few moments before heading over to curse under my breath, think evil thoughts and scoop people their damned ice cream. One would think those people would spend that time waiting deciding what they want. Nope. They stand around, looking at everything except what kind of ice cream we have.
Point number 2: ice cream makes people retarded. Ok, it’s one thing to not know what ice cream called Cotton Candy may taste like (when it comes to pure sugar, one can never be too careful) so asking for a taste of something strange and exotic like that isn’t moronic. When someone asks to taste the chocolate or the vanilla (I swear on my Red Sox) one would wonder if that person had been repeatedly beaten upside the head with a 2×4, and if they haven’t, if one SHOULD beat that person upside the head with a 2×4. I mean, c’mon, who honestly NEEDS to know what chocolate ice cream tastes like? Chocolate is chocolate in ANY form.
Point number 3: ice cream makes you fat. A good percentage of people who take us up on our ice cream service are overweight. Fat. Obese. In need of a damned diet. These kids, I swear, get fatter and fatter all the time, yet here comes in the waddling parents with their waddling kids looking for ice cream, looking like they just might eat you if you don’t scoop fast enough. Considering the problem we have in this country with fat people, this saddens me. Sure honey, go ahead and pig out. It’s ok, you wont be having heart problems for another 5 years. Want to sit down and watch tv when we get home? C’mon people, if you’re kid outweighs the 21 year old scooping the ice cream (me) then you need to get that kid on an Atkins diet or something. Or just stop feeding them crap. Eithr or.
Point number 4: ice cream makes you do crazy things. There is a Ben & Jerry’s ice cream shop on campus at my school, and holy shit. There is always a line of girls there, and there is always fighting going on about who cut who in line and this and that. PMS anyone? That, and people that stop in the DRUG STORE for ice cream service and get pissy because we have it closed. “We walked 10 blocks” blah blah blah. And I bet it was uphill through the blizzard that SoCal never gets too, huh?
Moral is ice cream is second in evilness next to, well, you know.
