Hide the Children!

So I'm sitting at my desk, trying to work despite a nasty sinus pressure headache, and I swear that my cell phone is ringing. I know that this is impossible since I remember turning it off this morning after talking to my mother on the way to work, but I pull out my purse anyway and double-check.

Then I hear the noise again, and that's when I see it--the ice cream truck. Chugging through the parking lot. At a college in the middle of backwoods North Georgia. While the students are gone for summer. Scary!!!!!

I suppose I should explain my adversion to the ice cream man a little better. While HistoryDiva and I shared an apartment (the same one she now shares with LibraryDiva), there was this creepy ice cream truck that would come through the neighborhood behind our complex. It would play music and then interject a creepy girl's voice saying "Hello!" in random pauses. When HistoryDiva or I would hear him, we would inform the other that the "Child Molester" was coming. Why did we settle on this prejudicial moniker? Think about it: Why else would an adult male drive around in a creepy little van while blasting ringtone-like music to attract little children with sweets? If you couldn't tell, I think it's positively creepy.