Monday, August 25, 2008

Is ice cream really what it is all about?

All summer long Carl has talked about driving to the town of Oxford, CT for the supposed best ice cream in the world. Everyone has ignored his request. I can pull out of my neighborhood and find several sources of ice cream within a 4 mile radius. I've got Dairy Queen, Pralines, Scooples, Ying Yang, the IGA, Cumberland Farms, and from the looks of some of the neighbors I am sure there is plenty of ice cream to be found in freezers nearby.

Well the other day we humored Carl; and he, Robin and I got in the car and drove 20 miles to this farm in Oxford. We arrived to a line of people about 15 deep. This is insane I thought. But it was about being with friends, not the ice cream, so I stood in line. This ice cream must be the jewel of ice cream.

I turned around at one point and the line must have been 50 deep, waiting to get to the one of three windows being operated by happy college kids who were earning tips for college, booze, pot, or gas.

So the three of us are talking and laughing and next thing I know my shoulder is being tapped and I am being yelled at by the woman behind me. I guess we weren't paying attention and we were next at the far end of the counter. We were holding up the line. Now let me just tell you that the woman behind me was not going to die if she missed ice cream or any sort of nutrition probably until 2025! But I digress.

So Robin and I share a small cake batter ice cream sundae. Yes, not cookie dough but cake batter; I didn't know there was a difference. Small could have fed the entire town of Oxford, whose population I think is about 13,000, but might swell to 1,000,000 when this place is open for the season. The line keeps extending down the gravel lot.

Cake batter was okay, just okay; not this orgasmic experience I was hoping to finally encounter. Carl threw out half of his toasted almond sundae as he is lactose intolerant. We hopped back in the car and drove home the back roads blasting disco with the top down. At least we had thirty minutes of great music.

Good friends. Good music. That's what it's all about.


Are you reading Rich's Other Blog?


Post a Comment

<< Home