If you heard the faint cry of a man who sounds like he might be irritated enough to destroy a Dairy Queen Brazier (brick-by-brick with his bare hands), it was just me.
Driving through the wastelands of Ohio to arrive at my destination only to find a Dairy Queen Brazier and a gas station as my options for food. I have never willingly eaten a meal cooked by Dairy Queen Brazier in my life but I settled into the idea and purchased one cheeseburger and a Peanut Buster Parfait (I used to like those when I was a kid). They handed me my order through the window and the Parfait looked a bit full but I figured these people work at Dairy Queen so I’m sure they know what they’re doing. I pop the top on the Peanut Buster Parfait and fudge and ice cream get all over me – to the point that I look like I’ve been serving ice cream to rural Ohioans all day. The guy might as well have just saved the plastic container and poured it directly into my cupped hands.
I took a bite and sat it on the ground outside of my car so that I could clean up with the limited napkins I have and finish my hamburger before I figure out how to carry a two pound Peanut Buster Parfait over to the trash can in a wet bag without making a huge mess in the parking lot of this hotel. NEVER assume that a Dairy Queen professional knows what they’re doing because that would be an incorrect assumption. Or maybe he figured that I was an a-hole and knew exactly what he was doing? In either case….DAMMIT!