Mister Creepee

We have ice cream trucks in California, but we don't have Mister Softee. Mister Softee circles the blocks near schools and playgrounds blaring the same eerie tune. It's a creepy song to begin with, even if it wasn't being blasted loud enough to make little children's ears bleed. Not to mention that Mister Softee himself is a bow-tied man with a soft serve ice cream cone for a head. You don't need me to tell you how scary that is.



That why, as my roommates and I returned home late last night, we were intrigued to see a Mister Softee truck pulled over on Nevins Street in front of a cop car. We stopped to watch with furtive glee as two pudgy Brooklyn cops sauntered over to the window.

Mister Softee is finally getting busted for uncover drug trafficking, we thought. Or perhaps the cops discovered a kiddie porn ring underneath that sweet facade!

The police officers approached the driver's window. We couldn't hear, but we watched as words were exchanged, and then their stern faces turned into smiles. The driver stood up from his seat and began to dig through his freezers in the back. Our faces fell as we realized: the cops pulled over a Mister Softee to order ice cream.

If that's not an abuse of power, I don't know what is.

P.S.
If any of you west-coasters feel like you're missing out on the grating Mister Softee tune, you can listen to it here.