>> Tuesday, July 31, 2012
It was around 9AM when the doorbell rang.
I wasn't surprised. After all, I had been expecting a delivery. 2nd St. Creamery had contacted me a couple weeks before asking me if I wanted to sample some of their premium ice cream. They were about to enter the Boston market, and wanted to give me a chance to taste it.
How could I say no? Ice cream is one of my all-time favorite foods, and I'm always on the lookout for new premium ice cream.
They said they would send me 8 pints so that I could hold a small party and share it with friends, family, or coworkers. I had given myself about 15 minutes in the morning to put the ice cream away before heading out for a work meeting in the morning.
I opened the door.
There stood the delivery man, holding a box about the size of a small freezer.
"I got one more in the truck for you!" he chirped as he ran back towards the truck.
I stood at the door, stunned.
He soon drove away, leaving me with two huge boxes at the base of the staircase leading up to the kitchen.
They were so heavy, I could not lift them by myself. I pushed them up the staircase to the living room area where I opened them up.
Why would 8 pints require such ridiculous packaging?
They had accidentally shipped me eight 8-pint packs.
Yes indeed. I had SIXTY-FOUR pints of ice cream and just a normal-sized refrigerator at home.
What's a girl to do?