Chocolate is for dog lovers. People who can hike, people who enjoy typing ‘01134’ into their calculator and giggling because it spells ‘hello’ upside-down. Yes, chocolate is a sure sign of someone who puts “fun-loving guy” on their online dating profile. Chocolate people know how hard it is to sit at a new lunch table. They’re the ones that wave you over to their spot, so you don’t feel lonely. Chocolate lovers get that a movie without popcorn is an abomination.
Vanilla is for simple people. People who have beige kitchen walls with vinyl quotes can have vanilla. People down for dancing in the rain, people who took up recorder for four months in fourth grade like vanilla. Vanilla is for purists, people who understand that you simply can’t have cake without frosting. You can count on Vanillas to always remember their locker combination, and has at least one overdue library book. Anyone who likes vanilla is good on a roller coaster. And will always pay half for the snowcone you split at the amusement park.
Chocolate-vanilla swirl is anarchy. Nobody needs both chocolate and vanilla in the same bite. Society has rules for a reason. Pick a side. Geez.
Nobody buys Neapolitan. It just shows up. Neapolitan is what happens when you reach in the freezer at Costco without looking and pull out the first thing you get. Perhaps if Napoleon Bonaparte hopped out of the glass doors from the cold storage rooms, people would be more inclined to keep it. But as it is, Neapolitan is just the last thing that gets thrown out with the red plastic table cloth at parties. And then there’s always that one kid who scrapes out all the strawberry ice-cream and leaves the rest, leaving everyone else to wonder: “Was that really necessary?”