Sometimes it is nice to fill a dull moment or two thinking about alternative careers. There are career paths that you just never thought about at school, that the career advisor never mentioned, that never had a little table full of enticing colour pamphlets set up at career's night. Some of these careers are all around us and we don't even think about them.
Yes kiddies, the words Mr Whippy are coming to mind. I have been giving the whole Mr (or is that Ms?) Whippy thing much of my attention and have decided on the following pros and cons of the job:
* meeting people
* free icecream
* prestige with young children
* free icecream
* front for dubious criminal/stalking activities (ala bad '70s Australian horror movie - can't remember the name)
* organising mutually beneficial swapsies with the hot dog man
* having to listen to constant Greensleeves-type music (maybe you could change it to something a bit more hip, but then how would the kiddies know it was you?)
* there could be major territory issues, where Fat Tony has the West side sewn up and this town isn't big enough for both of us, leading to shady rumbles and shoot out with the soft serve machine.
Hmm, maybe I need to investigage this further. Anyway this is my Mr Whippy story:
Years ago, when my sister was young and stupid, oh I mean naive, we were on a family drive past the Batman bridge near Launceston (named for John Batman, Australian explorer, not the superhero). There was a Mr Whippy van parked near the bridge and we stopped for icecream.
A woman was slumped in the passenger side of the van, asleep and not moving. We told my sister that she was indeed dead. That Mr Whippy had just murdered his Mrs Whippy and had been about to dump her off the bridge when he heard our car coming so had propped her up in the front of the van until we were safely out of view. This may have also been extended to further Mr Whippy crimes, maybe a Mr Whippy killing spree.
My sister was afraid of Mr Whippy for many years after that.