I was recently in the Cascade Locks Oregon for work. It’s basically a small town in the middle of one of the most beautiful and scenic areas in the country. But a small town in Kansas is just like a small town near the Grand Canyon. The view might be better there still ain’t shit to do.
We stopped for dinner at the one diner/drive in type of place under the assumption that what the food lacked in quality, the sign with the penguin eating an ice-cream cone would make up for in entertainment. I ordered last and finally relented to my inner fat-Nathaniel ordering tater tots and a corn dog. God corn dogs are awesome. The total for my food was around $2.75.
As we waited on the wooden picnic bench around the corner from the walk up food window we watched as the locals, one after another, ordered MONSTROUS ice-cream cones, and then proceeded to retreat to their cars to eat them. With the windows rolled up, and presumably the air-conditioning on. They would purchase a cool and refreshing treat on this very pleasantly warm evening, in this beautiful valley, and then go inside of their car cocoon and stare at the dash board, probably in silence and eat their 1lb of ice cream.
How do I know it’s 1lb of ice cream? We fucking asked. Because the size of the cone was normal, but the amount of ice cream placed atop was so absurd that we felt compelled to find out when they know the ice cream was finished becoming a “large”.
My friend asked, “How do you know when it’s done… like, when do you stop putting ice cream in it?”
“When the cone hits the counter.” Was her reply. So, when you are physically unable to deposit any more ice cream in the container it’s finished. She followed with, “It’s usually about 1lb of ice cream.” My mouth was open. Literally, one fucking whole pound of ice cream.
When they finally called me to the window to pick up my order I tried to give it back. There were 2 corndogs in my bag. When I brought this to the girl’s attention she said that’s how many is in a $1 order of corndogs. Of course it is…