I cannot shake this feeling there are things I am not being told by the Ice Cream Man Association. They smile. They look me in the eye. They’re forthcoming with documentation and records. And yet…

If they just let me look inside their trucks. Just let me sit behind the wheel for a moment. Let me try on one of their hats.

I’m never allowed to photograph pricing information. I’ve never been comfortable with that.

And why can’t I find an Ice Cream man that will give me anything beyond an initial for a last name? Those scandals where they were caught letting teams of highly coordinated sparrows pilot their trucks were decades ago. The public knows each vehicle is now manned by a licensed human driver. Why does the Association insist I feel their trucks’ driver’s side seat cushion to compare its sat upon warmth to the cooler truck back temperature to prove this? Who carries around a seat cushion and a jar of “cooler truck air” anyway?

Look for all I know, they’re clean. I’m just not ready to buy a lot of Gator Pops from them.

Chris Weagel

Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn't. He can't stand that shit.

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