Jeez Louise! Mr. Softee has long been one of the few things in this city that we thought unimpeachably good. Sure, the music is sometimes a little much, and the trucks are spewing a billion tons of smog into the air every summer, but what beats a soft-serve cone on a hot day? Sad news, then, that Mr. Softee has turned to the dark side, threatening to kick the cream out of the cute foodie who writes Eat Drink One Woman:
MR. SOFTEE: Look, miss, I'm trying to be nice -- how would you like it if I broke your camera?
ME: What?
MR. SOFTEE: Stop taking a picture. Looks like you're trying to take a picture of my permit. I might think you're a snitch.
ME: I'm not taking a picture of your truck anymore, alright? I was just trying to get a picture of a Mr. Softee truck.
MR. SOFTEE: Why don't you try taking a picture up in Harlem or Washington Heights, see what happens.
ME: You know what?
Now here is the real question: what kind of snitch does Mr. Softee have to fear? Perhaps spies for Damon Dash or maybe it was a fake Softee truck that was suspicious of being followed.
