The Great Ice Cream Disaster of 2011

Do you have one of those cool friends?  You know, the friend who knows all the cool people, wears all the cool clothes, and knows all the cool places and events.

“Cool ride.  Your Mom must be Agnes.”

My cool friend is Agnes.  Trust Agnes to locate a 2 for 1 end of summer ice cream blowout at the area’s best ice cream parlor, Gulus.  Agnes is a savvy, social media vixen too.  She used Facebook to invite 66 people.

We went a bit early to take advantage of the bike riding zone out front.  Good thing, because news of the ice cream bonanza had spread far and wide.  Apparently, there are plenty of cool, Facebook vixens inviting the hoards to eat ice cream.  When we arrived the street was lined with sticky faces.

Immediately I texted Agnes.  However, I am not a electronic vixen.  My text went something like:

“Hury, gett U ass hre, 3 flvrs only:  (crap I hate these little buttons…..)”

Gulus only had three flavours left:  lemon (pucker-up awesomeness,)  strawberry, (real fruit yummy), and… Sponge Bob.

Yes, that’s what I said.  Sponge Bob, the flavour.  The only thing I know about Sponge Bob, is that he is not good for your kids’ attention span.   Strawberry ice cream however, is AWESOME for their attention span.  Yago sat still until the last slurp.

What does Sponge Bob taste like, you might ask.  Think synthetic vanilla pudding with bits of yellow marshmallow.  Not my first choice, but during The Great Ice Cream Disaster of 2011, one could not be picky.

Ice cream is hard to save for friends.  At least that’s my excuse, because I had long finished my cone before the Facebook friends arrived.  With 66 invitees, sharing seemed a bit risky.  Ice cream demand was bordering on stampede levels.  Long before Agnes and her entourage appeared, Gulus had sold the last scoop and shut their doors.

Justin:  “DOH!  This is bad.  Dude, this is serious.  No ice cream!  What are we going to do?” 

Agnes:  “We’re going to start texting, THAT’s what we are going to do.  All fingers on deck.  Man the phones.  I invited 66 people to an ice cream party and Rea ate the last scoop of Sponge Bob.”

Río:  “Relax people.  15 minutes of processing time and I’ll be sucking Sponge Bob 2.0 through the Mommy straw!”

After all that flying of fingers and disappointment diverted, the ice cream-less Facebook friends packed back into their vehicles and wandered off into the sunset in search of sweet treats.

And we gave thanks, that for once in my life, anal retentive punctuality had rewarded me, albeit with bits of yellow marshmallow.


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