So back in the States, every kid knows the familiar sound of the ice cream truck. The bell, the song that gets the little feet frantic, the “Do do, do do, do do, do do do do do do do da la dooooo” that just screams, GET YOUR CHANGE AND RUUUUUN. We all know it. And before our feet ever hit the pavement, we were running at top speed with rocket pops and strawberry shortcakes and ice cream sandwiches on the brain.
Well, in Germany, they don’t have ice cream trucks. They have meat trucks. Go figure.
This is the land of tubed meat. They can make bologna in any.form.you.desire. Which for the record, is fucking gross.
But anyway, I’m driving home from work the other night and no shit, I see this.
So I’m dead serious. This truck comes around every night after 5pm and rings the little bell up and down the block, broadcasting that it’s just ready and waiting for you to come flying out the door, bills in hand, ready to purchase endless quantities of fresh meat.
The Germans. Can’t beat ’em. They are just that.efficient.