Behold, another quick tale that links thematically to Monday’s poetically titled “It Stinks” post. But first, some background.
For most of my life, I have shied away from Neapolitan ice cream. While I did find its delicate pink, white and brown color scheme quite pretty, I associated the flavor with Homer Simpson, trailer park denizens and assorted ne’er-do-wells. I have no idea why, but I did. Sorry.
But then last week, I partook of the evening meal chez my friend Elissa and for dessert, she served Neapolitan Edy’s Slow Churned Light Ice Cream. Enhanced with Reddi-Whip and chocolate syrup, the triumvirate was surprisingly tasty — and reasonably low-fat. Why not recreate the experience in my own home?
As I needed to replenish my supply of Diet Dr. Pepper anyway, I made a 9 p.m. trip to the supermarket a block up from my apartment. Unfortunately, Food Emporium stocked only the full-fat version of Edy’s Neapolitan, so I was forced to go with Breyers’ take on the product. I wasn’t really disappointed, because I’ve never been a big fan of polysorbate 80 and everyone knows that Breyers is devoid of this substance. (Please refer to the 1980s Breyers commercial featuring a cloying little boy who struggled to read the chemical ingredients of a rival ice cream brand, but could easily pronounce Breyers’ wholesome components like “vanilla,” “milk” and “sugar.” )
With quart in tow, I headed to the slow-as-molasses check-out line and waited my turn. I didn’t want to pick up the latest copy of US while the manager was within eye range, as I feared he would chide me for RWP (Reading Without Purchasing). The only diversion, therefore, was to take note of what my fellow shoppers had in their carts.
A peek in the basket of the lawyerly young woman in front of me revealed nothing remarkable: a few sad apples, plain yogurt, two (2) Lean Cuisines, generic paper towel, Vitamin Water, frozen spinach, and a copy of Anorexic Monthly.
Disappointed, I turned subtly to see who was behind me. It was a well-groomed man in his late 40s who bore a slight resemblance to Andrea Bocelli. JACKPOT! Perhaps there is something wrong with me, but once I saw what he was about to buy, I couldn’t WAIT to get out of the store and share it with someone.
In one arm, Andrea had FOUR (4) BOXES of Kellogg’s All-Bran cereal. In the other, he had A 12-PACK of Charmin Ultra Soft “bathroom tissue.”