We All Scream For Ice...Pan?

A coworker was having a bad day yesterday (actually she was having a bad past couple of weeks), so I did what any normal person would do and offered to take her out for ice cream. She hesitantly accepted (I'm not sure the cause of hesitation but rest assured, it didn't bother me).
So, after work she got in her car and me in mine and I followed her to the designated gelato shop (she's too good for the run of the mill ice cream (read "high maintenance")). When we arrived in the parking lot and got out of our cars she was on her cell phone which proved confusing when we realized the gelato shop was closed and we needed to discuss where to go next.
Undeterred, she motioned for me to follow her as we both got into our respective rides. We traveled up the street a couple of blocks until she starting waving and pointing hysterically as she drifted into the left turn lane. It was then that I saw the reason for her excitement. A small sign at the entrance of the parking lot read, "Custom Made Ice-Cream" and if that doesn't get you excited then you better check your pulse.
So, into Ice-Pan we go wondering exactly what qualifies their ice-cream as "custom." I casually stroll up to the counter and politely ask the high school girls, "What exactly makes your ice-cream custom?" Their answer was practically incomprehensible. It was a jumbled mess of pauses, giggles, incorrect inflections, and blank stares (read "they seemed to be on drugs"). Surprisingly, however, I was able to gather the vital information about this amazing establishment:

Step 1: Pick a flavor of ice cream (they have many...but not 31).
Step 2: Pick your milk (whole, low fat, skim, soy)
Step 3: Pick your mix-ins (stuff they crush and mix into your ice cream...hence the name)
Step 4: Pick your toppings (stuff they put on top of your ice cream...hence the name)
Step 5: Pick your size (they have 2...shouldn't be too difficult to decide)

Once the order has been placed, the magic happens. The stoned workers mix up your custom ice cream mix and turn on the magically ice pans. Once the mix is properly blended the master steps in to turn your dream into a reality. He is a quiet, polite man who graciously takes the mixtures of cream and sugar and spreads them evenly over the ice pans. Almost instantly ice cream starts to form. He starts to scrap and fold the thin layer into a thicker layer and eventually into a soft scoop. The scoop then gets flattened and your mix-ins are crushed and ... mixed in. The glorious hunk of creamy flavor is then gathered into a modestly sized cup and topped with your ... toppings. The entire process is then finished with a warm smile from the master himself as he hands over his creation. That's when you are granted permission to eat your new found ice cream.
We were both thoroughly enjoying our ice cream. I think I finished mine in record time and sat there waiting for my friend to finish hers. Good company, good conversation, and great ice cream were quickly interrupted when she discovered a long blond hair as a bonus mix in. She sat there disgusted and dumbfounded and I probably mirrored that same expression. Eventually, of course, she presented the "hairy" evidence to the high schoolers on drugs and they, of course, made her a new one. When she held the second sundae in her hand I couldn't help but feel amazingly jealous. She went home that night half disgusted and half excited about the bonus ice cream. I went home that night trying to figure out how I might score a bonus scoop next time I go to Ice Pan.

Til Next Time

P.S. I returned to Ice Pan the next night...I did not figure out a way to get a free scoop.

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This Post For Those With Limited Attention Spans:
I went to get gelato.
It was closed.
I went to Ice Pan
They make frozen magic there.