Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Ice Cream is Dandy

I’m beginning to get the feeling that I’m not going to lose those 10 “buffer” pounds that I wanted to before I go on vacation. Last night, much like many other nights in my sorted past, I went out for ice cream.

Last night I was introduced to a new drug: the Jim Dandy™ sunday. You’d think that with my sick obsession with ice cream I would have had a Jim Dandy™ before now, but no. For an ice cream whore, I still manage to lead a pretty sheltered ice-cream eating lifestyle. For example, the very first banana split I ever had was last summer in a Vegas hotel room. It was late at night, I had been drinking, and our one room mate—Buzz Kill—was already fast asleep. It was the temptress, Lady Quebeaum—my other room mate—who convinced me we’d be quiet enough not to wake Buzz Kill, so we ordered room service. It was all Quebeaum’s idea, and damn, that was some of the best ice cream I’ve ever eaten!

Back to the Jim Dandy™… I think it’s safe to say that I’ve never met an ice cream that I didn’t like, and the Jim Dandy™ is certainly no exception. In a world where everything is so corporate and commercial, where ice cream is mixed with candy-bar pieces and birthday cake, where chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry have been replaced by Java Mocha Chip®, Chubby Hubby®, and Moose Tracks®, the Jim Dandy™ is a breath of fresh air—it’s retro, it’s old school, it’s freaking delicious (even if it’s annoying the piss out of me to have to insert the ™ symbol every time I type it!). A Jim Dandy™ is like a banana split on steroids. It’s five scoops of ice cream (vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry), strawberry, marshmallow, and chocolate topping, a banana, whipped cream, sprinkles, and a cherry!

Did I finish it all? Do you really have to ask that?

On our way home from the red-light district last night (and by that I mean the red awning of Friendly’s), I began to discuss the only change I would have made to the Jim Dandy™: more whipped cream.

“If only it were acceptable for me to bring along my own can of whipped cream, I could have coated every fresh layer of ice cream as I’ve eaten away at layer after layer,” I said.

“If you were really nice to the waitress and maybe gave her a dollar, she’d probably be convinced to bring you out a side of whipped cream,” J replied.

“I don’t think she would bring enough,” I said.

“Well, then, I don’t know what to tell you…”

“I’m not unhappy with the ice cream,” I interrupted. “I’m just telling you my best-case scenario—the ultimate Jim Dandy™ experience that I would have if no one were actually around to watch me eat it.”

J busted out laughing.

And there you have it. I’m certifiably crazy for ice cream. God bless you, Jim Dandy™, God bless you…

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