Quick question: What’s the most amount of money you’ve ever spent on popsicles? OH, THAT’S CUTE, I JUST SPENT $30. I thought that last sentence would have more “oomph”, but even though $30 for popsicles is a lot, when you look at “I just spent $30″ it sounds like a very benign complaint.
Feverish Pops sounds like one of those businesses that if a friend of mine told me they were going to open a popsicle shop, I would laugh in their face and mock them relentlessly about how it has nothing to do with their liberal arts degree. That’s basically what an ice cream truck driver does, except their business model includes free delivery. So $3 for a popsicle is starting to sound less and less appealing when you have to get in your car and play ice cream truck music from your car stereo (to get pumped up for ice cream, obviously). It all sounds like a goddamn con. They actually started off as a food ice cream truck and decided to give up their nomadic lifestyle in exchange for not having to drive a fucking truck all day.
But then you actually try one of those popsicles. I ended up buying seven of them, because the dude conned me into it by telling me, “If you buy seven, you get one free.” OH, ALL I HAVE TO DO IS BUY SEVEN OF THEM? Of course I fell for it, because I’m a fucking man-child. They had all kinds of flavors: mango with liquor in it, strawberries with liquor in it, blueberries with liquor in it, and virgin stuff. The virgin stuff includes apple pie, peanut butter and jelly, and pineapple basil. We tried a sample, and it tasted like childhood. A good childhood, not the kind of childhood where you got bad grades in school, daddy beat you for it, and mommy drank because you were supposed to fix their marriage.
I ended up buying seven of them, because the dude conned me into it…
Naturally, I ended up wanting to buy not one, but seven of them. The guy working the counter was great. I think they made a good choice, because he’s got the trendy, urban, hip thing going on which flows with the image of the place appropriately. If it were some annoying fucking hipster elitist describing the process of making the popsicles to me and how the strawberries they use are locally-grown along with the photo of River, the pink-haired girl from Portland who picked them, I would’ve walked out of there and told my girlfriend to yell “rape” as loudly as she could. The guy was cool, and even though they’re not yet ready to sell those pops to go (he said they’re working on getting some dry ice for it), he went to the back and wrapped all those pops for us to go. I broke my no-tip-for-non-tip-personnel rule on him.
We didn’t do this, but they let you dip those pops in chocolate, and then some other topping like POTATO CHIPS. That sounds stupid, but so did the plot to Transformers 3 and I watched it anyway, so this is probably worth a shot.
At the register, there was a little poster at the counter talking about the owner, his wife, and their history in opening said store. The dude in the poster looked, to me, a lot like a guy sitting at a table watching Dana and me order. I wanted to be like, “Hey, you’re the owner, aren’t you?” But if I was wrong, then I’d be accused of saying all black people look alike. It was kinda like seeing a B-list celebrity that you’re not sure is them, but you’re marginally intrigued about seeing them. If I were at a Bennigan’s and saw Dean Cain, I’d be like, “Is that… Dean Cain? Huh. Cool. Also, am I in a Bennigan’s?”
When we got home, we shared the apple pie popsicle. It was stupid delicious. Then, like, 20 minutes later I wanted more so I ate the peanut butter and jelly one. Oh God.
This stuff is like frozen crystal meth, and while I find it moderately retarded that they decided to open their store while it’s “cold” in Miami, I thank them for it. I highly recommend making your way there immediately and trying them out. Make sure you tell them Boy Writes Miami sent you, so they can be like, “I don’t know who that is.”