...
Who the fuck is able to make a living eating ice cream, you might ask? I dunno. The words "only fans" come to mind.
But, I'm a proponent of dealing with the world as it is, rather than what we wish it was. And sometimes, you just gotta accept that you're gonna have to pay for the ice cream that you eat, and the eating will have to be its own reward.
I knew of someone whose job was "ice-cream taster", a quality-control type of guy.
Sadly, he couldn't eat anything else that wasn't bland — habanero-salsa, no; garlic-shrimp with garlic fries, no; chilli-con-carne, no; salt&vinegar chips, no; etc... The only time he could eat anything interesting was the first 3–4 days of his two-week vacation time... then he had to rest his taste-buds for the rest of the vacation for that first day back at work.
Reminds me of that episode of Cheers where Norm gets his dream-job of working in a brewery as a beer-taster. Seemed like a good idea...
Nutter story... in my youth I was to meet a friend at Swanson's Ice-Cream Parlour. On the menu was something called "The Earthquake", I liked the sound of that and placed my order; the server asked "what flavours?" — "Surprise me," I said.
Oh I was surprised alright. Turns out The Earthquake is a party favourite — 36 scoops of ice-cream, and I was given one of every flavour in the shop.
I dug in. Midway through, my friend still hadn't arrived to help in the glacial endeavour. The only crap-tastic scoop was of coffee-grounds disguised as ice-cream which I finally pushed aside, the rest was delicious.
My friend never showed, I vaguely recall it taking about an hour to finish it all on my oddy-knocky, I paid for the ice-cream I ate (expensive on a kid's allowance), before I could cycle home, alone.
Ahh such sweet memories you've brought back Stickman...
Stay frosty.