The Good Humor truck visited my neighborhood in Virginia on a weekly basis. And in time, I learned to love the Toasted Almond feature. What was it at that time? I'm guessing 20 cents for this cool refreshment.
The Good Humor man himself was humorless but he really didn't matter. One day, however, he came into full view. When I ordered my ice cream, he told me in no uncertain terms that I was short of funds. What?
A state tax was in effect in the state of Virginia. My ice cream was now 21 cents. Well, I didn't have a penny. He gave me a little hard time but let it slip. I was a bit peeved.
The next morning, the Humorless ice cream man turned around our corner lot. I was waiting with my tax in my hand. I yelled for him to stop. He didn't hear me. I thought, screw this guy and fired my penny at his white truck.
CLANG! Direct hit!
Damn it if that ice cream guy didn't jam on his brakes.
Screech. He leaped out of the truck.
"Someone took a shot at my truck! "Someone took a shot at my truck."
Oh, gosh, I thought, how terrible.
Amazingly, as I approached his truck I spotted the shiny Lincoln coin on the street. I calmly picked it up and approached him. He was still yelling about the gun shot. I said "Here's your tax."
He didn't understand. He was still fuming about the gun-shot incident. He took my coin and sped off.
I got a chuckle out of the whole thing.
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