I'm so frustrated. What do I have to do to get some ice cream around here?
I find I go too many days without ice cream and it affects my entire being. I love ice cream. I need ice cream. Ice cream relaxes me, comforts me, and it puts me in a better state of mind. Ice cream feels good when you eat it, when you consume it. It's just happiness all around.
When the ice cream man gives me ice cream, he assures me that he knows I need ice cream and makes sure I have some. Sharing the ice cream is the best part about it.
But, the ice cream man doesn't show up most days and I hardly hear the magical tinkling of his truck with its seductive song. I close my eyes and imagine having ice cream-I get worked up, the back if my neck starts to warm, my breathing increases, and my addiction is anxiously awaiting satisfaction along with the need reciprocate satisfaction. My passion is left, most days, only to be quelched when he doesn't come.
You wonder what he does to make his way. You wonder if he's just tired of your neighborhood and is venturing to other media. When he doesn't show up, you wonder if you don't pay him enough to ensure that he keeps giving you ice cream. You wonder if he's eaten up all of his ice cream by himself and never has any left to give you.
Ice cream shouldn't be a chore. It shouldn't be something you dread. It should leave you satisfied. It shouldn't be considered exhausting or a nuisance. Ice cream is a special gift for those who are lucky to have an ice cream man; its exciting, its raw, it emotional, its adventure, its spontaneous, its what separates the ice cream man from any other Tom, Dick, or Harry.
I send out traffic signals to help him arrive. I even give the ice cream man some ingredients so that he can make his ice cream more delicious. I always thank the ice cream man and make sure he gets what he needs too. You see, I feel like a failure sometimes because I really don't want to beg, or go out and get it myself all the time. That would just be wrong all over. But nothing works. I just wait now. Just wait, hoping the ice cream man chooses to visit.
The ice cream man must not be aware of how much I love his stuff. I want it- rich, thick, creamy…I crave its texture in my mouth, inside, all the different flavors, and the euphoria that it gives me is unmatched. I don't really care about the mailman, or the vet, or the cable guy—it's the ice cream man I want! And his truck, his sweet music; he has the stuff I need. He has the ice cream afterall! He makes me want more, what can I say?
I just don't understand.
I mean...I don't have just a friend, do I? I have an ice cream man.
No comments:
Post a Comment