Back in college, my lunch crew and I would always camp out by the soft serve machine.
Mainly because we really enjoyed whatever the hell soft serve is (can’t really say it’s ice cream; can’t really say it’s yogurt).
But we had ulterior motives for sitting near the machine. You see, we were lunchtime sadists.
The soft serve machine had a devious mind of its own. And sometimes, instead of filling a cone or a bowl with the haphazard coil of mushy dairy stuff, it would spray people in the face.
It was the greatest thing to watch. Ever.
The rule was that no one at our table would get soft serve until we witnessed how the machine was behaving that day. And every now and then, we’d burst out laughing at some poor soul forced to head to the next class covered in sugary milk.
And then we’d get our sweet treats from the adjacent freezer.
It was an especially glorious day when there were cookie cones.
Tags: cookie cones, frozen treats, ice cream, soft serve, vanilla
My friends and I used to rank the dining halls on campus by the quality of their soft-serve. Some had different machines than others, and they seemed to switch brands regularly. Each day we’d discuss the taste and texture of the soft-serve (as well as that of the muffins, cookies and more).
I wish the agency had a soft serve machine. Don’t you think that would be so much better than stale chips? I’ll race you to the suggestion box, B!