coldstone creamery sings its last

February 23rd, 2006


The local Cold Stone Creamery franchise has folded up shop; after falling for the pre-opening hype of their first week in Northampton, I gladly dropped by to purchase a jumbo-sized bowl of ice cream. Halfway through attempting to eat it, I felt the pull of the Lord, drawing me home. A deep diabetic coma set in, and when I awoke years later, the doctors that encircled my bed informed me I should feel blessed enough to have kept most of the leg, above the knee.

For others, however, I believe the deal-breaker of Cold Stone Creamery was not the self-preservation instinct borne by legitimate health concerns, but instead the uncomfortable mandatory employee-sung songs after anyone left a tip. I have seen the face of ennui, and it is the downcast face of a sullen Northampton indie-kid as he mouths the words of an ice-cream themed public domain jingle in a ritual of forced camaraderie and faux gratitude.

Most importantly — now Steve Herrell can sleep easy on his giant bed of money, petting his solid gold dog; secure once again in his position as the area’s one and only iron-fisted ice cream impresario. Line up, Northampton! Moo!

~jeff

  • Carrie

    Hooray! Coldstone Creamery’s ice cream tatses like heavily sweetened plastic.

  • Rachel

    Just this past weekend, I went on a lengthy rant about the disgustingness of this gloopy, oversweetened crap, the portions of which are suited to an extended European clan or one morbidly obese American and served in a manner that advances class-based power inequalities by simultaneously humilating low-wage service industry employees and lulling the working class into illusions of luxury and social dominance while robbing them of both physical health and capital.

    The synchronicity of the demise of the NorthHampton ColdStone and my weekend rant is a sure sign of the coming of the Revolution. ColdStone’s “Executive Team” must be the first against the wall.

  • cauley

    (\singing\):
    Is it any wonder I love her…?

  • Rachel

    Also, the Herrell’s in Alston used to serve breakfast & coffee in the ice cream off-season. The waitrons were consistently baked out of their minds by 10 a.m., emerging increasingly confused after each lengthy trip to the back room. On the few occasions when my order wasn’t totally wrong, it was totally forgotten. This was at once supremely annoying and permanently endearing.

    This is all I will speak of ice-cream stores today, save for the final word: CHRISTINA’S. Oh, yeah.

  • http://joshua.swingpad.com/ Joshua

    (\singing\):
    Is it any wonder she’s my sisterrrrr?

  • Molly

    Um, Jeff why did that lady spell Northampton, NorthHampton? Is she a foreigner? Sent perhaps from Hagen Daaz?
    Oh, and Jeff, Steve’s wife Loise is extremely allergic to dog dander so the gold statuette is actually a repllication of their current (living) pet Piddy Paws… a hairless Persian mess. The statuette is approximately the size of the one mounted above the entrance at the Brass Cat. I’ve got a friend whose job it is to polish that, and also their glass swanboat(s). Strange indeed, but just you TRY and keep me from their Key Lime Cardamon flavor.

  • http://ldopa.net Jeff

    …Molly pronounces “foreigner” like FUR-EN-NUR and picks her teeth with a bowie knife at the same time. I wouldn’t cross her.

  • Cheyenne

    they have delicous ice cream they are the bom

  • Cheyenne

    they have delicous ice cream they are the bom

  • Jennifer

    Ok…if you are going to leave stupid “I hate coldstone ice cream” comments, clearly you dont like their ice cream. But one question: Why the hell are you looking at the site anyways?!?!?!

  • Anna

    okay, so does anyone know the gay coldstone creamery songs that they sing for a dollar???

  • amanda

    i work at a coldstone…its really not that bad
    we only sing if someone asks if not we just say thank you
    we also sing the shortest songs possible