How far will you go for ice cream?

I’m back at my parents’ for a wedding this weekend.  I should be doing homework.  But somehow putting about 200 miles between me and campus lifts the pressure enough for me to procrastinate.  I shouldn’t…but there’s only so much work a person can do in a week.

Last Friday night, I was also looking for a short study break.  I was running an errand with two friends, Danny and Kirsten.  Danny had graciously offered to be our “chariot” for the night, since neither of us had a car.  Turns out you kind of need a car to do anything in America.  Things aren’t exactly designed in a “walkable” manner.

Anyways, we were running our errands when Kirsten mentioned the fact that she hadn’t been to Cold*stone yet this summer.  As soon as she mentioned it, a chorus of “mmmm”s erupted between us.  It had been a long year since we had partaken of this wonderful frozen goodness.  So we asked if our chariot driver would take us.  He wasn’t sure of where there was a Cold*stone, but promised to do everything in his power to deliver us to said location.  He’s lived in Asia.  He knows what it’s like to live without ice cream.  We figured a quick trip for ice cream would be the perfect quick-pre-studying jaunt.

We dropped groceries off at our apartment, grabbed dinner at the cafeteria, picked up another ice cream craving individual, then after a call to a friend with internet to determine the nearest shop headed off.  Ice cream awaited us at a distance of 5 miles.  But then Danny thought there must be someplace closer.  So he pulled up GPS on his Blackberry.  And lo and behold, there was a closer place in the opposite direction.  With mouths watering we were off.  We arrived at the address…but alas, it had close down several months beforehand.  So much for technology!  Since we had already driven several miles in the opposite direction, we continued on to the next nearest location on the GPS.

We arrived in downtown Naperville, which is apparently where everyone in the Western suburbs of Chicago goes on a Friday night.  We drove around looking for parking for twenty minutes.  Nothing.  So Danny dropped us off at Cold*stone, and went to continue the hunt for parking. The ladies went inside and grabbed our ice cream (and ice cream for Danny in hopes he would soon join us).

If you haven’t been deprived of good ice cream for 10 months, I don’t think you can quite grasp the joy in this moment.

Ice cream is good.

Enough smiling for the camera; let’s eat!

Isn’t Kirsten gorgeous?  Sorry, she’s taken.  She’s getting married in less than a month.  A week after finishing grad classes.  Yes, she’s a bit crazy.  But the wedding has given me an excuse to make my first trip to the Pacific northwest.

Uh oh, Danny’s ice cream is starting to melt.

And then I noticed this was happening to my ice cream.  So I put down the camera.

Danny didn’t find parking.  He came curbside to pick us up.  And had to eat his rapidly melting ice cream in the car.

Ahhh, Danny.  Our ice cream providing knight in shining armor.

Total time spent on “quick” run for ice cream?  Almost two hours.  And worth every little minute.  How far would you go for ice cream?