Sherbert

         We don’t have sherbert. That statement is a broken record that we play all day long. We must have missed the memo that went around the shore this summer about sherbert, because I just don’t get the sudden volume of interest. We have ice cream, Italian ices, yogurt, and whole-fruit sorbets, but no sherbert because past summers have proven that no one eats 
sherbert. Now apparently, it’s in everyone’s heads and it’s causing us some headaches.

          All day, every day, people will come into the store, read all of our options, and then approach the counter with: do you have sherbert? as if we left it out by accident or are hiding it somewhere. Yes, it’s our evil plan to steal all the sherbert from you mwah ha ha ha!! But seriously, don’t you think that if we had it we would list it?

            And some people really do think we’re keeping our non-existent sherbert a secret. They will go over to the freezer that holds the Italian ices and challenge us: are these your sherberts? Here’s how one conversation went the other week:

-       No, those are Italian ices.

-       Well, where are your sherberts?

-       We don’t have sherbert.

-       Oh, so these aren’t sherbert?

-       No, they’re ices.

I really don’t know how much clearer I could have been, but this woman was relentless and she was going to ask me the same question a hundred different ways in order to get the answer she was looking for. No matter how you phrase the question, the answer is always the same: we don’t have sherbert. 

            It got to a point this summer when that sentence was so over-played that one of my co-workers made a colorful sign that read Italian Ices and posted it right on the ices freezer. Silly us for thinking that the sign would curtail the confusion. The joke was just on us because the “are these your sherberts?” conversation never ceased. 

            The other interesting thing about sherbert is that people don’t really know what it is. They are constantly confusing it with the ices and sorbets. Honestly, I don’t’ really know the difference either, but I do know that we have different flavors of each. So, when someone orders the “orange sherbert” we say, “do you mean the orange sorbet,” to which they snap back as if we’re stupid, “no, the orange sherbert right there” pointing to the mango ice, that is labeled on the freezer. Yeah, and we’re the stupid ones. Eventually they give up the sherbert fight and decide on the orange sorbet because in the end, it doesn’t really matter what it’s called as long as it tastes like what you want.

            I don’t understand the point in debating something you don’t really know much about. Who care if it’s called sherbert or sorbet, when at the end of the day you’re still tasting orange? You may think I’m trying to convince you to settle, but that’s not my point at all. If you only eat sherbert, you understand the molecular difference between sherbert and sorbets, you’re dreaming about sherbert, and you don’t care what flavor you eat as long as it’s sherbert; then by all means don’t let me stop you, go get your sherbert!

            However, when there is no sherbert available, I can’t make it appear out of thin air. If what you’re looking for doesn’t exist, you’re never going to find it. Stop playing detective and move on. The case of the missing sherbert is closed because it was never there in the first place. Sometimes you just can’t get the sherbert that you want so you might as well look at the facts in front of you: ice cream, yogurt, ices, or sorbet, and choose from what is offered. With absolutely no choice of sherbert, think about this: would you rather have ice cream or no dessert at all?

Still Screaming

Customer Feedback

           We enjoy feedback from our customers. We like to know when we’ve done our best and when we’re moving a little too slow for our nightly barrage of sugar-depleted vacationers. I especially like it when they compliment us on how unique and tasty our different flavors are, or when they come in from the porch on one of those brutally, stubbornly hot summer days to grab napkins and complain about how quickly our ice cream melts.

-Insert record-scratching sound here-

Wait a minute, are you for real? I’m sorry, did you really just complain about how quickly ice cream melted in the scorching summer sun? Do you hear the words that are coming out of your mouth? And, I love that they specifically say “your ice cream” implying that we have some sort of deficiency in our product and if they went to a different location, their ice cream wouldn’t have melted on them. You know, I’ve been trying all summer but geez, I just can’t seem to be able to fix the problem. Oh, I know! We have an air-conditioned seating area inside; no one told you to sit in the blazing heat!

But where was I? Ah yes, our customer feedback. We have special cones that we have so cleverly named “fancy cones,” that we dip in chocolate and multi-colored sprinkles, that no other places near us have. Our customers love looking at our display and encourage their kids to eat a fancy cone knowing that they will get a bite later. They admire our selection and say things such as “what fun!” or “ooh, look at these little Suzy!” And when they finally approach the cash register they gawk and almost refuse to pay. Of course the “fancy cones” cost more you dummy! You are getting more product, so don’t you think it makes sense that the more you receive the more you have to pay for it? If not, I’d like to live in your world.

But sorry, back to customer feedback. Our customers like to taste before they commit to a whole cup of one flavor, and we are the “taste testers” so we understand their need to know. We hand off a taste of one, a taste of another, and they maintain their thankfulness every time because they apparently are not allowed to taste at home. I love getting the reaction of “wow! That’s really good,” or “oh, yeah. I’m getting that,” or “umm, does this have chocolate in it?” Uhh, yes it does. Oh great, here comes mom: “She’s allergic to chocolate, why didn’t you tell us?!”

“I’m sorry ma’am, I didn’t know,” is the only polite phrase I can respond with because I’d really like to scream:

“Are you kidding me? Why didn’t I say something? Why didn’t you say something, you’re the one with the allergy?! I don’t know your kid from a hole in the wall and I’m supposed to know she’s allergic to chocolate?! That’s right, I forgot, it’s my fault you’re a moron.”

Don’t misjudge me, I’m not insensitive to allergies. If someone tells me in advance, I have absolutely no problem taking the time and offering options of sanitized scoopers to avoid peanuts, ices for those who are lactose intolerant, or otherwise. It’s when you assume I’m a mind reader that frustrates me. Miss Cleo went out of business a long time ago.

It’s just a little thing called communication, folks. Some do too much and don’t think before they continue, and other do too little, not providing enough information. Maybe our communication with the customers is lacking too, though. Maybe we should have more signs up that read: Caution. Ice cream melts, eat at your own risk. Or We can accommodate, but we can’t read minds.

Why is it so trying to communicate? Why do we just act instead of asking the necessary questions in the first place, so as to save us the hassle in the long run? I don’t’ think it’s because of the fast-paced world that gets blamed for everything these days. No, I think that we all just think we know best. But sometimes the customer isn’t always right. It is at these times when we need to take a step back and communicate with those who know more in order to be satisfied. The dilemma that we get ourselves into time and time again, is that we forget that communication is a two-way street, and we expect the other person to do all the work. However, the next time we give customer feedback, we need to think about what we could have done differently too.

Still Screaming

Milkshakes

           As I prepare the ammunition, it splashes onto the counter and there is a mini explosion. Already my enemy is making me nervous. I continue on my course as planned and prepare for battle. I step up face to face with the enemy and say confidently, “not today,” as I avoid the left spindle that is the fiercest fighter. I get myself into combat stance and take all of the precautionary measures: I start off slow so as not to startle the enemy and send it into a mad frenzy, I rally my troops and use all of the help I can get to suppress the harsh retaliation, and as I wipe the sweat off my face, I inevitably add multi-colored war paint to my visage.  

The battle has begun and, as always, I am the instigator. My enemy is, as always, fully prepared to put up a strong fight and will not back down. I think I have won this battle as I push through my obstacles until… I am hit! And pink is splattered across my chest. Once again, I am defeated. The good news: at least I get to lick off strawberry milkshake from my face. My arch nemesis Milkshake Machine has won this battle, but it will not win the war this summer, I am determined. 

            At the ice cream parlour we cringe when we hear the word “milkshake.” Sometimes we are even tempted to “rock-paper-scissors” who will have to step up to battle. Every so often someone will take one for the team and volunteer to make the milkshakes. Yes, that is plural milkshakes, because it’s never just one attack, it’s always a full-on battle for our cleanliness and pride. We’d prefer not to call our customers animals, but it’s really monkey-see monkey-do with them because once one person orders a milkshake, the next five groups in line will take note and decide that’s what they really wanted all along. You can see it on their face like, “oh yes, of course I want a milkshake!” and they are hypnotized by the sheer fact that you can eat ice cream through a straw. 

            But does a milkshake taste better than the original flavor? Is it really worth all the trouble? And why are we so timid to tackle the torturous milkshake? After all, it’s just ice cream.

            Now, I enjoy the occasional milkshake when my sweet tooth and my thirst both need to be quenched, but blending can destroy the intended ice cream experience. For example, we have a popular flavor called “Graham Slam,” which consists of graham-flavored ice cream with a graham cracker swirl and chocolate covered marshmallows. By turning this into a milkshake you lose the crunch of the graham cracker, the chewiness of the marshmallow, and the delectable finish of the chocolate. You are just left with mush. So what’s the point in trying to turn something into something it’s not? You lose all of the uniqueness and end up with a jumble of flavors attempting to blend together into one harmonious treat. To me, that doesn’t sound very good.

            The fact of the matter remains, people will always try to change things, and that still leaves us scoopers the catalyst for the transformation. The reaction that ensues is one of madness. People running, scoopers falling, milk spilling, mixers whizzing, and finally, a communal held breath as we wait to see if the person making the milkshake survives this time. But really, we survive every time, for as much as we all feel like we’re going to war, the worst thing that happens is a milkshake mess that can only be truly cleaned by mopping up after we close. We psych ourselves out for nothing, and yet it is a natural instinct to worry about the potential consequences before taking action.

            So many times a day, a week, a year, we come across something that we just don’t want to deal with. We avoid it if we can, and when we can’t, we hold our breath until it’s over and we can relax again. But why are we so afraid of making a mess? It can get cleaned up, it just might take some time. Yes, the battles will continue, there’s no way around them; however we can be braver, and at the end of every night, when we dismantle the milkshake machine to sanitize it, we can call it one victory at a time.

Still Screaming

Frequently Asked Questions

             Last summer we had a running tally in the back of the store of stupid questions that the customers ask. This summer, every night as we begin the drones and subconscious states of cleaning up, we review the idiots of the evening and run through the most hilarious comments made or questions asked. Here is where I will share some of my favorites, and what I’d really like to respond with, with you:

• How small is the small? Small. If you want something smaller than a small don’t eat ice cream.
• Do you have vanilla? No. We’re an ice cream parlour and we have over 40 flavors but no vanilla. OF COURSE WE HAVE VANILLA!! And we even have soft or hard.
• Or the reverse question: What kind of vanillas do you have? Uhh, vanilla. It’s the plainest thing you could possibly get in the world so if you’re looking for varieties of plain you must live a riveting life.
• What’s in the “Chocolate Cupcake”? Strawberries, caramel, and some frozen avocado for good measure. What do you think is in the “chocolate cupcake?”

           Now, if you think about it, these questions can be legitimate. Yet, it is the way in which they are asked that make them so hilarious for those of us behind the counter. Here’s what they should be saying so that we won’t make fun of them:

• How many scoops do you get in a small versus a medium?
• May I please have vanilla?
• Is your vanilla French vanilla or vanilla bean?
• Is the “chocolate cupcake” a flavor of ice cream or does it actually have pieces of cupcake in it?

           See, folks, was that so hard? We know what you are trying to say, but if you can’t say it we’re just going to make fun of you because we have way too many customers to deal with during our rush that ask the same dumb questions.

            Is there no common sense left in the world? Why don’t we think about what we say before we say it? It is so difficult to come in to the store, take a look around, read the ice cream list, scan our cup sizes displayed, and then open your mouth? We really couldn’t have made it any easier for you because we have flavor lists posted in three different spots around the store for convenient perusing, and we have the cups literally hanging above the register so you can’t miss them. Not only that, but we have a frequently asked questions sign that explains what’s in some of the most popular flavors! Yet somehow, all of these items seem to become invisible as soon as someone walks through the door. Why can’t we rely on ourselves to figure things out before we jump to asking stupid questions?

I’ve learned that people become overwhelmed very easily, and instead of sifting through everything they are given they choose not to bother with it and bother us instead. It reminds me of when I was little and I didn’t know the meaning of a word. My mom would tell me to go get a dictionary and look it up. I thought that was stupid, though, because it would take a lot less time for her to just tell me. I didn’t realize back then that everything you need to know is really given to you, you just have to be willing to find it. Otherwise, you go around asking questions that others know the answer to because they read all the signs and you don’t end up looking inquisitive, you just look stupid. So is it lack of common sense that provokes these questions we receive nightly, or is it laziness perpetuated by the consumption of a hot fudge sundae? Are you stupid or just lazy? Either way the solution is simple: read the signs!

Still Screaming

Sprinkles

Sprinkles. What is so cool about sprinkles? No, not the chic cupcake shop in Beverly Hills, but rather the little cylindrical sticks that you can put on top of your ice cream to make it “look pretty,” as the customers say. Sure, they’re colorful, and a little crunchy, but do they add anything to the quality of your ice cream? You only get them on the top layer of the ice cream, and once you lick them off all that’s left is the original ice cream.

Sprinkles to me are like showing off a new outfit, you put it on to impress others. Now the unique aspect about the sprinkles in our parlour, is that you can get an individual color of sprinkles on your ice cream rather than your average rainbow variety or simple chocolate. This fact is a huge hit with little kids whose favorite colors are pink, green, etc, and it even attracts some adults, especially in the late-night munchies crowd, who want to try them out.

Typically, when we hand over the cone to the customer with the solid color of sprinkles coating the top, we get a resounding “oooohhhh, aaaahhhh, look at that!” Sure, they’re snazzy to look at, but honestly, they all taste exactly the same, and they just have a waxy texture that detracts from the flavor of the ice cream. So really, what’s the big deal?

If you feel like you need to enhance what is underneath the sprinkles, then why pick that flavor in the first place? You are eventually going to get down to the core of the ice cream and you are going to have to like what’s inside in order to enjoy your dessert; otherwise, you just wasted all of that money for nothing. If you feel the need to mask your go-to flavor with sprinkles, then maybe it’s time to rethink your taste.

Sprinkles only last for so long, and some people understand this reality and therefore ask for extra sprinkles on the bottom. These people are the best actors because they know how to beat the superficial system. The average customer ultimately reveals the original ice cream and ends up with a clean slate. The sneaky customer, however, gets around this inevitability by adding more, so they never have to deal with just the fresh ice cream. Why do so many people feel the need to hide their ice cream? Don’t you want to enjoy the creamy, savory, sweet ice cream for what it is rather than lather it in a miniscule thing that gets stuck in your teeth?

And there’s something else that gets to me: sprinkles are a nuisance. They get stuck in your teeth, they fall off everywhere, and they make you thirsty. Sprinkles are really a lot of work if you think about it. You have to be willing to deal with them and their uncomfortable traits, and I wonder if they are really so amazing as to be worth the hassle. After you finish eating, you are obliged to check your teeth because you know that there is at least one rogue sprinkle stuck in between your teeth somewhere, and someone is going to see it sooner or later and you will be embarrassed. Ironic, isn’t it, that the thing that makes your ice cream more aesthetically pleasing can turn you into something very un-aesthetically pleasing? Moreover, they make a mess. Sprinkles don’t stay in place and you have to continuously work at keeping them in line, until you finally eat them all and then you are left needing a glass of water to wash down the residue.

Aside from all of the intensive labor involved in so-called enjoying sprinkles, the fact of the matter is that they cost more. Interestingly, people seem to expect them to come with their ice cream. Apparently, every other frivolous accessory in their life came free, so sprinkles should as well. Guess what, folks? Sprinkles are a topping, toppings cost extra, so yes, sprinkles might just break the bank if you’re not careful. It’s always interesting to see how many times a night we will hand over an ice cream and the customer will say, “can I just get some sprinkles on this?” To which we reply, sure, we’ll just add that here… and when they hear they are going to have to pay more they hurriedly call out “oh never mind then!” It is hard to tell if they are trying to pull a fast one on us and get by with free sprinkles, or if they are truly oblivious to the fact that each item costs money. Let’s put it this way: do your socks come free with your shoe purchase?

Many people do not mind spending the money or the energy on sprinkles, but others cannot be bothered, and I applaud those who choose not to deal with sprinkles because they are unnecessary to your delectable ice cream, and to your wallet. I say enjoy the ice cream for what it is and leave off all of the other stuff, because at the end of the day the sprinkles are gone anyway and you have to like what you started with.


Still Screaming

Cups and Cones

For the past four summers I have worked at a local “mom and pop” ice cream parlour on the Jersey Shore. No, not Snooki’s Jersey Shore with a whole lot of “situations,” but rather the pleasant, peaceful, private Jersey shore where families enjoy relaxation, and ice cream, together for a few months or a few weeks depending on whether they own or rent a summer home.

For those of us who have spent our summers on the Jersey shore almost our entire lives, it’s more than just fist pumps, and hookups, and bar fights. Actually, it’s none of the above. Truthfully it’s mini golf, barbeques, and nightly trips to the ice cream shop.

Once I started college and my years of summer camp ended, it was time to get a job. So I applied to work at the ice cream parlour I’d been waiting in line at since I was 9 years old. When I was hired that first summer, I was ecstatic; not only about having a job, but also about being in college. Summer reading lists that I created for myself, new friends in a new location, and the freedom that every teenager dreams about upon turning 18. Little did I know that scooping ice cream could make me want to scream.

First of all, there is a choice to be made. At the parlour that I work at, there are many different ways to eat ice cream; who knew? Of course you can have it in a cup, but then you must decide whether you want a small or a large. And no, we do not have a “kiddie” size because then that’s all that anyone would ever order. On a different note, you could always have a cone. However, there are three types of cones: sugar, wafer, and a waffle. These cones have existed forever, so it’s no surprise that a “regular” cone is not on the menu; oh, wait, if I had a dollar every time someone asks for a “regular” cone I’d be filthy rich! Let’s not even get into milkshakes, special sundaes, or floats yet. With this abundance of options one would think that everyone could find something that they would like. One would not expect that ordering an ice cream dessert could be such an ordeal. One would be wrong on both accounts.

I would like to know: if you can’t decide how to order ice cream, then what decisions can you make in life? More often than not, we’ll have people come up to the counter and say something like, “I’ll have the mint chocolate chip;” at which point we respond with the gateway question: cup or cone? This question, I kid you not, shocks people. I always wonder if they expected us to serve it into their hands when they look at us with the “fly trap,” our term for the open-mouthed “uhhhhhh” sound we hear more frequently than “thank you.” This decision between a cup and a cone might be the hardest one they’ve had to make all day at the beach, and they are just not up to that challenge; how dare we!

Granted, maybe I’m not giving these people or our parlour the benefit of the doubt. Maybe back at home, their ice cream shop does not provide the variety of options that we do; maybe at home they just say their ice cream choice and it shows up in a cup a few seconds later without a second thought. But is everything in their lives that simple? Is ordering ice cream the most demanding task in their lives?

Kids are, for obvious reasons, easy, as their parents order for them at this stage. However, things can get tricky when the parents begin to give their children responsibility and the freedom to make their own choices at an early age. Either the child orders with their eyes rather than their stomach, or they come to a standstill and cannot make up their mind at all. Here is when the parent usually yells at the child no matter what the response is: “why did you get something so big, you’re never going to eat it all,” or the classic “just pick something already.” In the first scenario, the duel has been thrown and the child looks at his or her decision with determined eyes, ready to devour the entirety of their food to prove to the parent that they can make their own choices. In the second case, the child usually just starts to tear up retorting with “but I can’t,” and forcing the parent’s hand to step in and take over the situation. Parents, here’s my advice: you know you don’t want your kid to have the giant bowl of ice cream with four toppings, you know they can’t eat the ice cream quickly enough for a cone, you know that making a decision is going to take a while, so why not save you and me the frustration and have a game plan before you come in? Or, maybe you don’t know all of this about your child, and maybe that says something too?

What boggles my mind more than this, though, is when the adults finally order and we have to ask them the same questions that we asked their kids! I’m sorry, were you paying attention when you repeated everything I said to your child, or did you just think that finding out what to put your ice cream in only applied to people shorter than my waist? Why is it so difficult to state your decision clearly? Why does it always feel like pulling teeth, which actually might be easier than this decision after all of the ice cream eaten on vacation?

For all of you who are trying to make the excruciating decision between a cup and a cone in life, here are the major differences you need to consider:

• One is easier to multitask with, as it only requires one hand
• One has a sturdier foundation, thereby affording it more fun things on top
• One is more difficult to balance and therefore might give you more trouble in the long run
• One has a restriction that it must be eaten with a spoon, or else you will never get to the bottom.

So what’s more important to you in the scheme of things, what drives your decision-making process? If we have to make a pro-con list for ordering ice cream, I don’t want to be there when you are buying a car or making a move to a new city. Let’s put things into perspective here, your ice cream order is not the end of the world. So just go with your instincts, because with ice cream you can always change your mind tomorrow and try something else. That’s the beauty about everything, there’s always tomorrow to make a new decision if today didn’t go as well as planned.

Still Screaming