Et Tu, Mister Softee?

I know that Spring is officially here because the much hated/loved Mister Softee truck has started staking out the corner of 5th street and 7th ave.

It's hard enough to suppress the urge to drink myself stupid or spend $30 on expensive take out after a hard day of work, let alone force myself to go to the gym...but add a strategically placed Mister Softee truck in the mix and it is fucking doomsville for me.

I had my first cone (chocolate with rainbow sprinkles) yesterday. It was $2.25 and I had $2.20 in my pocket. I was about to dig for the nickel in my bag, but Mister Softee told me not to worry about it.

It's a fucking recession and business is so good for Mister Softee that he can arbitrarily refuse nickels.

You rat bastard.

See you all there tomorrow after work.