You remember. That tinkly music coming from the mobile van of joy. All Star Rocket Pops, Pushup Pops, Screwballs, Fudgesicles, Lemonheads, ChipWich, etc.
There is a neighborhood near my evening job so, this explains the presence of the ice cream man, but I wondered, what if he came to the work building?
I pictured someone keeping a lookout, perhaps the supervisor or a lead and then making the announcement.
"Everyone!! EVERYONE! ICE CREAM MAN!!!"
And everyone ditching their headphones, barely remembering to lock their workstations and grabbing the change off their desks. They knew he would be by, just not quite sure when, depends on how good his day has been in the neighborhood nearby. Women (and a few guys) in their stretch pants, patterned blouses and comfortable shoes come barreling down the stairs and run through the doors to go see their old friend. An orderly queue is formed, we are adults after all, and there is a general glee in the air. Childhoods are revisited, either their childhood or their children's childhood. After everyone gets their ice cream they don't return to their desks right away, instead they mill about outside in the persistent heat letting the ice cream drip down their hand. They all congregate in their little groups and talk about how hot it is and how happy they are that the ice cream man came by on this evening. They might discuss what audio book they are listening to on this fine evening. After about 20 minutes, everyone begins to meander back into the building. As everyone returns to their cubicle world they have a lighter step and a smile on their face. Someone licks their lips and finds a remnant of chocolate cookie sandwich in the corner of their mouth.
That wouldn't be so bad, would it?