First it was someone blaring their stereo. Classic Rock. Whatever.

Now, it is an ice cream truck, and the dude is either lost or waiting for kids to get home, because he has been doing laps in the parking lot for 30 minutes, and no one wants his stuff, so he figures he'll just loop around until he gets a sale.

That stuff was every day at Pevely Pointe apartments where I used to live. An ice cream trucks, every day, other than deep winter. No sales, no customers, no interest, but there they were, hanging on to some last bastion of hope that someone will buy a popsicle from a van in a low income neighborhood.

But, it's a free country. They can do whatever.

[ a few minutes later ]

Good, he's gone. Now there is quiet again.

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