Steve fitted a new jingle box and speaker to truck 48 but it is quieter than the old one. I can’t hear it with the engine on. Went on my route after hot-dogs at the apartment. On the East side, therefore nearby, but it is a poorer area than my previous one.
The population looks a lot rougher than the areas I’m used to. However they are really a lot more pleasant to sell to – they all say please and thank you and I made $77 in six hours, so I think that when I sort out the areas it will be more lucrative. Passed at least four other ice-cream trucks today but they all smiled and waved to me.
Daisy trucks are equipped with a row of bells on the front of the van and the driver has to jerk a string all day long to make his presence known. Passed one truck being stoned by a gang of youths – the driver was having a hernia. Apparently they spared me and one other truck because Dana, the girl I am replacing, gives ice-creams away in return for harassment of other trucks. Luckily I happen to mention her before they started on me.
They seemed to be on my side because my Bomb Pops are 25¢ – the others’ are 35¢. Kids swarming the truck: “Please mister gimme just one free ice cream. It’s my birthday, it’s my cousin’s birthday – my pop’s a preacher! I’m on my knees begging you ice-cream man – what more can I do?” This is my cue to zoom away leaving a little wide-eyed mini Al Jolson kneeling on the sidewalk.
Served one guy with his hair in curlers. Lot of them go around with big combs stuck in the back of their hair. Get lots of peace signs and other indications of fraternity. “W’sappenin man?” they greet me. “I’ take a fu’sicle.” “I’ve only got creamsicles – 15¢.” “That’s cool too. Gimme a creamsicle. Take it easy man.” After work we had two pizzas at Diane’s place and then had a round of Putt-Putt at the course next door. Wrote to Phil at last.
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