The Story of the Ice Cream Man and the Lying Father

One summer I spent my time driving around in an ice cream truck, through the streets of Richmond. It was your traditional ice cream truck with the side window and the PA system playing awful music. I had my route, and I followed it most of the time. Almost every day I would drive by a house where a little girl would look through the window and stare wide-eyed at the ice cream truck and the other children consuming their frozen treats. Never would she leave the house and never would she have ice cream with the other children.

Near the end of the summer, my time with the ice cream truck was coming to an end. One of my last days I drove by the house with the little girl at the window who never had any ice cream. She was always at the window. I parked the ice cream truck and turned off the PA with the intention of putting an ice cream cone at the front door, in the hopes that she would get it.

And here comes the little girl, running out of her house and heading straight for the ice cream truck. She had a dollar bill in her hand and already knew what her order was going to be. I asked her why she never came out before to get ice cream; she said that her father told her that every time the ice cream man plays music it means that he is out of ice cream.