I was reading last week about how a man selling ice cream in Charlotte, North Carolina was beaten by teenagers trying to prove their toughness to themselves. Pretty damn low to beat the hell out of somebody just doing their job.
It also reminded me that I was once an ice cream man back in Atlanta in 1996. I signed up for the job, rode with a guy that day, and had second thoughts about it. Even with gas being a dollar a gallon back then, I really didn’t see how someone could make money doing this. When a few other ventures fell through, I figured I’d try my luck at it once more, running the route I was shown the day I trained. No takers at all! Maybe somebody was trying to teach me a lesson that I should have stuck with things the first time.
I got the message rather quick. I took the van back to its garage just west of downtown Atlanta a couple of hours later, and never returned to it again. Some things in life you just can’t do half-ass, and that was my mistake.