Tonight I ate some very popular ice cream in Times Square at an establishment called the Cold STONE Creamery, which my friend Margaret and I didn’t really know the name of, but knew was the next big thing.
I ate “sweet cream” flavor ice cream (which is like their version of vanilla and very delicious) with pecans and caramel sauce. Now here is the fascinating part: These items are not “toppings,” as they would be labeled at other ice cream stores, but rather they are “mixers” or “mix-ins” or something like that, because part of the fun of the Stone Cold Creamery is that a lady takes your ice cream between two big silver spoons and beats the crap out of it on a big slab of stone (presumably cold) and then beats the mixers into the ice cream and serves it to you in a bowl-shaped cone.
After doing a little research, I discovered that
the Stone Cold Creamery is a FRANCHISE. This means the fun can spread wherever capitalism deems it necessary. Right now, that’s only Times Square for Manhattan, but there are also locations in Queens, Staten Island, and coming soon to a town close to my heart: Bronxville, NY. There are also like a billion other locations nationwide.
I forgot to mention the most important aspect of this experience. About every thirty seconds the wait-staff burst into song (a sort of rowdy spoken-word collaboration really) after the girl at the registered hollered “Hey, thanks for the TIP!” When I saw the tip jar that said “give us a tip and we’ll sing for you” I understood what makes the Stone Cold Creamery so special: ingenuity and flare, which all those girls have in abundance. Meanwhile, I was just standing there uncomfortably waiting for them to stop. And no, I didn’t leave a tip because they made me so nervous I dropped all my change into some lady’s giant Oreo Cookie Crazy Madness Sundae(tm). Oops.