Honestly, I went as part of my job so I could get a photo of people picking up huge orders of blizzards. Because photos of charity-in-action are the backbone of community newspapers. Next to the spleen of school Christmas pageants.
As I was about to leave the office, I told my co-worker Heather where I was going. She didn’t hear the “photography” part. She assumed I was going for ice cream’s sake and handed me money so I could pick her up a blizzard too.
Thus began the awkward “Well, I guess if I’m going to get her one, I have to ask other people too” conundrum. When there are 30 + people in the same office, how do you manage that?
Do you stick with your department? Do you ask one department but not another? Do you ask the department filled with people you know exist, but never see at all and so are more akin to mythical creatures like the unicorn? Do you risk angering the gatekeepers of the front desk and phone lines by not asking them? What happens if you miss out on someone?
But the sheer number of people make it next to impossible to not be selective, unless you plan everything out for days in advance. Point is, I don’t want to be the one to upset the delicate ecology of a workplace and somehow trigger an ice cream Armageddon.
It’s a lot of pressure.
And not even the point of this post.
I arrived at Dairy Queen and pull out my list of who wanted what, and start to place the order. Except I hadn’t written down what I was going to choose. I’m a cookie dough blizzard girl. It’s my go-to DQ treat. It is my safe spot. It is a port in a sea of chaotic changing flavours.
But oh, I was going to step out of my comfort zone this time around. All I knew was that I wanted to be spontaneous and attempt a blizzard flavour that I had never tried before.
I reached the end of the list, looked up and started to open my mouth. I wasn’t prepared. I should have spent longer studying the menu before heading to the counter.
My brain froze.
There were people coming in the doors and starting to line up. The cashier was looking at me, waiting, Probably seeing the panic in my eyes.
And that’s when I buckled under pressure. My brain went into autopilot.
I ended up with cookie dough.
I am a failure at ice cream adventuring.
Also, our editor short changed us in ice cream money. I mean really … who nowadays thinks a medium blizzard costs three dollars? Apparently our editor does.