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If You're One Of The 1,300 New Yorkers Who Called To Complain About 'Mister Softee', You Don't Deserve To Be Happy

Heat Wave Grips New York

New York Post – We all scream for ice cream, but some New Yorkers are screaming mad over Mister Softee and its iconic jingle.

Nearly 1,300 complaints were filed with the city over the past 12 months about having to listen to the song over and over while a company truck doles out treats nearby — with Queens residents being the least chill, data shows.

Mister Softee beefs jumped by nearly 300 percent in Cambria Heights, from just nine last year to 38; and Jamaica Estates went from 20 complaints to 57, an analysis of 311 complaints conducted by the Web site Localize.city, found.

What type of fucking loser do you have to be to call up your local government officials and complain about your neighborhood ice cream man? I can’t imagine hating my life so much that the glorious tune of the Mister Softee truck approaching your block pisses you off so much you get on the phone and complain about it. I legitimately feel bad for these miserable souls.

I don’t think I speak for myself when I say that as a child, if you lived in a neighborhood frequented by the countless ice cream men across the nation, there was nothing better than running around with your friends on a hot summer day and hearing that famous tune get louder and louder as he approached your block.

Listen to this shit and tell me it doesn’t get you fired up…

I hear that tune and immediately feel compelled to run outside and scan the streets for a glimpse of the approaching truck. It brings me back in time to simpler days. Days when I didn’t know enough about the world to realize how fucked up people can be, and even wiping my own ass was a responsibility I could pass off to another without being shamed in public.

Even when I turned 12 and started wiping my ass all by myself, the power of the Mister Softee jingle never diminished. To put it simply, the pleasure one gets while enjoying some ice cream or a frozen Dora the Explorer pop with bubblegum eyes transcends time. It transcends age. It’s one of the purest forms of happiness known to man.

If you’re one of the people who’s called to complain about the repetitive yet magical Mister Softee music in the past 12 months, you don’t deserve to be happy. There’s no other way to put it, and I certainly don’t feel bad in saying it. I hope Mister Softee himself finds every single one of you and blacklists you for life. It just means more ice cream for everyone else.