Ice Cream, You Scream
Journal
A diversionary scoop of the effects on an office granted free access to a bottomless freezer of frozen dreams
I JUST FINISHED EATING a Chipwich. This after-lunch treat——vanilla ice cream rolled in chocolate chips and sandwiched between two chocolate-chip cookies——is available in our office kitchen. It’s free. But not fat-free——each one contains 340 calories. To what do we owe this caloric bounty? San Diego Magazine won a contest. The prize was a half-year’s supply of ice cream——all sorts of Dreyer’s brand products: Neapolitan ice cream sandwiches. Three flavors of fruit bars. Häagen-Dazs raspberry sorbet. Even something called a Shrek Sludge Bar——a Fudgesicle variation that comes packed with green-colored caramel filling. Free——and available 24/7.
It felt like Christmas back in July, when a delivery guy wheeled in a freezer——the low-slung kind, with a plastic sliding cover. Just like the ones in any 7-Eleven, bodega or quickie mart. The story behind how we won the ice cream is fun. So was the reaction by coworkers, family, friends and office guests. We’ve managed to put a few bars to charitable good use along the way, but the ice-cream voyage hasn’t been all smooth and creamy. We encountered a few rocky roads (you saw that coming, right?).
Here’s what happens when your best childhood dream becomes realized in your adult work life.
IT ALL BEGAN with a scavenger hunt. Two dozen teams gathered last summer on Broadway Circle in front of Horton Plaza for the Dreyer’s Grand Ice Cream scavenger challenge. Teams of five were given 30 minutes to complete a possible 30 downtown tasks. We managed to knock off 22 in half an hour; challenges included counting the lights on the Pacific Gaslamp theater marquee and gathering up local giveaway magazines.
We were the only team to make use of a bicycle. Maury Harris pedaled around town while Heather Back, Julia Beeson, Rich Clark and I hoofed it. Other teams booed and called us cheaters when our bike strategy was praised during the awards ceremony. But it was perfectly legal. It should also be noted the second-place finisher was a team from Where You Want To Be Tours. San Diego Magazine once used that company’s services for a team-building event. Why? They organize scavenger hunts. Seems now, however, the grasshopper has become the scavenging master.
SAN DIEGO MAGAZINE operations manager Trina Thayne limits herself to one ice cream per week. “Unless we’re on deadline, then maybe two,” she says.
“When I’m in a blah mood, all it takes is a little deliciousness on a stick——or a cone——to make the day seem a little better,” says Lisa Williams, one of our magazine’s designers. Rita Weiss, assistant to the publisher, and events coordinator Kathleen Davis admit to having bragged about the office treats to family and friends.
For sales rep Dari Pebdani, this all recalls the ice cream trucks of her childhood. “It’s cool as an adult to indulge from time to time in our office ice-cream ‘truck,’ ” she says. Sales rep Rich Clark believes “having ice cream at my beck and call is sexy.”
Guests to the office seem impressed. “There’s something about offering our visitors water, coffee or ice cream that sets the standard a little higher,” says receptionist Charlotte Blanc. Sales rep Lacey McNeal invites her visiting clients to indulge. Senior designer Jessica Hedberg hosts the editorial board meetings of San Diego Lawyer in our conference room. “Attendance at the Lawyer meetings has increased by 20 percent since we got ice cream,” she says.
While making a bank deposit, staff accountant Veronica Graham shared ice cream with a thrilled bank staff. Graham wasn’t excited at first but has bought in. “I wondered if I would have the willpower not to see it as an all-you-can-eat buffet,” she says. “It doesn’t bother me anymore——and it’s comforting to know it’s there.”
Business development director Heather Back also looked at the pros and cons. “It’s a positive for morale but a negative for my hips,” she says. “My ‘fat pants’ are getting more wear,” notes sales assistant Valerie Jennison.
Marketing specialist Jonathan Mackintosh says enough is enough. “When the supply becomes excessive, you lose the sense of value that comes with the rare ice-cream occasion,” he be moans. Copy editor Phyllis De Blanche and sales assistant Greg Hazelhofer recall that early on, coworkers were getting their tongues stuck on frozen fruit bars. “I’ve never seen so many people bleeding out of the mouth,” says Hazelhofer. “How did these people make it to adulthood?” wonders DeBlanche.
OVER THESE PAST SIX delicious months, when the freezer would get low, I’d call Susie at Dreyer’s. I’ve never met Susie in person, but I imagine her to be a kind and benevolent goddess. I always felt a certain nervous embarrassment when I ordered the free ice cream. Part of me felt unworthy of such largesse. Still another part of my brain worried that one day Susie was going to say, “That’s it! No more ice cream for you!” But she never did.
One time in October, I over-ordered. There was no room for the extra containers of vanilla Drumsticks and other frozen goodies. Steve Jahn, another one of our sales reps, was called upon. He’d just volunteered with the Monarch School, blocks away from our office. The school serves homeless kids. After a quick call, Jahn found out there was indeed a freezer at Monarch with open space. Dreyer’s field sales rep Alan Araw offered to put the ice cream back on his truck and drive us there. The three of us loaded the freezer. Araw couldn’t have been more gracious with his time. Thank you, sir.
ANOTHER TIME, the plug to the freezer was accidentally kicked out of the kitchen wall socket. We had a meltdown. Interns Jenna Jay and Stephanie Sweat (yes, real names) helped clean out the melted fruit bar juice. Luckily, the damage was minimal——I was overdue to order. But the two days we went without ice cream were bumpy and strained. People walked into the kitchen and didn’t leave with the same blissful afterglow produced by strawberry shortcake on a stick.
We’re going to have to give back the freezer at the end of the year. We all know this. It’s been a great run. We appreciate the good luck we were blessed with. And we’ll be back for the next Dreyer’s scavenger hunt——armed with bikes, skateboards, walkie-talkies and any other high-tech weaponry we think will get the job done.
Until the freezer has to go, I’ll continue to obsess over it. Call me a Nutty Buddy, but I find myself drifting into the office kitchen when I’m not even hungry. I’ll just stand next to the freezer, staring in, making sure the ice cream is stacked neatly in the correct compartments.
I think sales rep Dari Pebdani was on to something: Unlimited free ice cream is a kid’s dream come true. And if not for the latter-life reality of calorie counting, it’d be any adult’s ice-cream dream, too.
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