Last Monday was Dairy Queen's 75th anniversary or something like that. The more important thing is, they were giving away free cones.
I happened to be in Florida visiting two friends, so I relayed this joyous news to them, and we drove to DQ. Now we arrive, and it's apparent this news is not secret because everyone and their mother, father, dog, cousin, and future children are there.
We haven't been in line more than a minute when the cashier announces, "We are out of cones. We have no more free cones. The deal is over."
Meanwhile, over this woman's shoulder, we can see this is a blatant lie: The cones are in full view. Would she give me one if I offered her $2.39? And I did wonder how much DQ could be making if all this people and their unborn kids are only getting free cones and leaving without buying anything else - but that's not my issue. You can't just cancel the deal.
Thankfully, there are similar thinkers in Davie, FL. Ones that look like leather purses, according to my friend, because Florida. Either way, this woman demands, "Well, we can get it in a cup then?"
Cashier: "I'm not allowed to do that. It's my manager's orders."
Woman: "Can I talk to the manager? This is a national deal. We came for free cones."
Cashier: "The manager isn't in right now." (Of course she isn't.)
Woman: "What's her name?"
Now somehow this woman finagled two small plastic cups of ice cream for herself and her husband. I worried momentarily she was involving my group of friends in this, because we had jested we were here for the cones (it actually wasn't a jest; we really were), but I was like, I'd rather not be associated with Mrs. Leather Purse Skin; I'll fight my own battles.
Of course this prompted others to try similar tactics to which the cashier announced she would lose her job if she gave out any more cones or plastic cups; Barbara would fire her.
When my friends and I reached the cashier, we opted for the buy-one-get-one-free deal on a blizzard. But I asked: "Can we get a free cone with that?"
Cashier deadpans me.
Me: "I mean, we're buying something."
Cashier: "I will lose my job."
Me: "Tell Barbara she made a lot of fans tonight."
So you would think this story ends here. However, I have seen the common people stick it to the man through social media, and I am not about to see an anniversary decimated by the likes of Barbara. So I find their Facebook page.
The most recent review is from - wait for it - a woman named Barbara. She writes: "Great atmosphere employees are absolutely wonderful the food is great and best of all the blizzards are awesome!" She also gave it five stars.
I comment, "Are you the manager?"
I then add my own review: "Well, let me tell you: Tonight my two friends and I doted on your establishment expecting free small cones because that was the national promise for your 75th anniversary. However, we were told that the manager Barbara had called off this anniversary, as if she could erase 75 years' worth of history, and the cashier would be fired if she gave us a free cone. And then, to add to the travesty, we saw the cashier hand a woman a blizzard, turning it upside down - AND IT SPILLED OUT. But the cashier responds, 'You weren't supposed to see that.' Where was their free blizzard? Barbara, I'm waiting for your answer."
I gave them to two stars, which corresponds to "subpar." I'm not that worried about ruining DQ's reputation, because it's common knowledge that they have the cheapest best soft serve. I just have a cone to pick with Barbs. I also am hoping for free DQ for a year.
This morning I woke up to a notification. Barbara responded to whether or not she was the manager. "Yes," she wrote.