My Secret Love Affair

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I haven’t told many people about my secret love affair, but I promised to share “secrets” at FranchiseMastermind.com, so here goes.

Her name is . . . Dairy Queen.

And I love her!

You’re disappointed? . . . You expected a more sordid secret?

I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise.

But this one is really pretty good. At times, somewhat embarrassing, I’d say. I’m even blushing as I write about her.

No matter where I am, or whether or not I’m hungry for love, I never pass up an invitation from Dairy Queen!

She’s Good Even in a Blizzard

Not long ago I arrived in Jackson, Wyoming in a blizzard (that’s not a play on words, but if you thought so, then you love her, too!), and from the outskirts of that small town I spotted her. It was then that I knew this would be a very good trip indeed.

Some people would think it’s crazy to stop for Dairy Queen in a snowstorm.

Not me!

Wherever I find her, I stop for her!

And sometimes (my embarrassment is peaking now) I search tirelessly for her!

For example, years ago I was in Budapest, Hungary. Loaded with history and drama, Budapest is a small and somewhat drab city, but a perfect venue for walking.

Clue in a Trash Can

I was out for one such walk one afternoon when I got a tip that she was nearby. My clue was in a trash can! That’s where I caught a glimpse of the eye logo of my beloved Dairy Queen. It was on the side of a cup. There were no words–nothing that said Dairy Queen–but it didn’t matter. I knew her by her shape and I could already taste her!

Problem was, I didn’t know where to find her! This was a strange city. And while I had a map, Dairy Queen wasn’t on it.

Fortunately, there weren’t all that many streets to cover, and the blocks were short though crowded with people. I started with the closest street, working my way through the vendors selling carvings, scarfs, and what-not–walked it to the end, turned the corner, walked over to the next street, walked that to the end. Turned the corner . . . etc. etc. etc. I was a man possessed. Passed Popeyes, passed McDonald’s, passed Burger King . . . all good, but no burning love affairs there.

At last, about 90 minutes into my journey, I found her! And yes, I indulged. Sinfully I admit I had more than my share. But I didn’t care who saw me. I was far from home and I needed love!

This Affair is all About Love

Dairy Queen really is all about love in a weird sort of way for me. When we were kids in Ohio, a trip to the DQ was a huge treat. My parents could only afford a cone per child–there were four of us–plus the dog, who got a Tiny Tot (which was free). My mother got a cone, too, but my father–ah, he being the provider of everything worthy and wonderful, got a chocolate milkshake, 25 cents — or if he was flush with money, he got a malt and paid a nickel more.

I often protested that I wanted a milkshake, too. “When you get a job you can get a milkshake,” my father admonished me trip after trip.

I really wish he hadn’t said that because he put out a challenge that has yet to end. Once I got a job I spent far too much money on chocolate milkshakes at the DQ.
And I still do!

What can I say: I love her.

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