Ice cream man
Fred Saujon can name that tune in one note. Actually, he can name that tune in no notes. It bounces around in his head when he’s showering, trying to fall asleep, and yes, in his dreams. It’s Scott Joplin’s “The Entertainer,” better known as the song from the 1973 movie, “The Sting,” but most recognize it as the unofficial anthem announcing, “The ice cream truck is trolling the neighborhood.”
Saujon is an ice cream man. Four or five days a week, he crawls along Spokane neighborhood streets in a 1971 white truck that looks and acts every bit its age, stopping for kids who dart out front doors or dash across streets on bikes to feed their ice cream fix.
“I work from noon to dark,” said Saujon, a 22-year-old North Sider who started peddling ice cream this summer.
Some of Saujon’s good fortune happens through good luck. Other days, it comes down to the weather. The sweatier, the better. But the combination of the two, like stumbling onto a youth soccer tournament on a 90-degree day, can be as profitable as stopping on three bars on a slot machine.
“The best thing to do is try and find the most children,” Saujon said while gearing up for another day of sherbet push-up pushing.
Saujon is one of a handful of drivers who work for Steve West Ice Cream. West, a 47-year-old Spokane resident, has worn the title of ice cream vendor since 1994. This summer, he turned his one man, one-truck job into a three-truck business with a handful of employees.
“They’ve got to like kids and be able to deal with the heat inside the truck,” said West, who only hires people 21 or older with good driving records.
West’s crews work the Spokane Valley, South Hill and North Side. Some sections of town attract more customers than others.
“If we go in the rich places, we’re not going to sell much,” West said. “Lower-middle (is better), where they don’t have enough money to have their fridge stocked and they don’t have enough money to go do other things. But they’ve got enough money to thrill and excite themselves by buying a couple bucks (worth) off the truck.”
Each morning, the crew buys the ice cream and Popsicles from West at wholesale prices, discusses the day’s territories, and goes on their way. The drivers also buy gas out of their own pockets. On a good day, Saujon said, he takes home more than $100.
“It’s pretty much an exploring type of thing,” Saujon said above the loud hum of the sputtering engine.
Exploring, and making it through the slow spells, which Saujon has come to realize does not necessarily mean a bad day at the office — or in a Chevy Step Van truck.
One windy and unseasonably cool day, Saujon began at Audubon Park and snaked his way around Providence, Kiernan and Gordon streets without selling to a soul. Fifteen minutes into the shift, a customer finally came zipping up on a bike on the Northwest Boulevard median.
“One Nutty Supreme,” 12-year-old Taylor Lueck said, his eyes fixed on the side panel of the van where Saujon had taped pictures of his varieties. “And do you have SpongeBobs?”
Oh, tartar sauce! As SpongeBob would say.
Saujon bought 48 SpongeBob SquarePants fruit-punch, cotton-candy flavored ices, but they were inadvertently left off the order. Thankfully, West saved the day — or at least the post-supper rush — by delivering the goods.
“I’d have to say, because of the TV show, SpongeBob is the favorite,” Saujon said. “They also ask for Spiderman, Hulk and bubble gum pops.”
And sometimes, they ask for handouts.
“I have a lot of kids ask for free ice cream because it’s their birthday,” Saujon said. “I hear that all the time.”
However, not all customers are kids who crave frozen treats. Some are adults, like Paul Sonnenberg, who is making up for lost time.
“I got short-changed as a small child,” said Sonnenberg, who popped out of his home on Glass Avenue and bought two Creamsicles. “We didn’t get any ice cream.”
And there are others like David Brault, whose generosity made five girls in his neighborhood jump for joy.
When Brault bought ice cream bars for his 9- and 4-year-old daughters, Brault sprang for the girls who had dashed to the corner of Fairview Avenue and Cannon Street when hearing the ice cream truck music. They were ready for the ice cream man, but penniless at that.
“How can I not buy it for them?” Brault said, “They come up here, they’ve got no money. What are you supposed to do?”
About two hours into his work day, Saujon had already sold 41 ice cream bars and Popsicles, and that was before West arrived with the boxes of SpongeBobs. The day’s business picked up when the wind stopped and the clouds lifted. Hitting a few neighborhoods that don’t usually get visits from the ice cream man didn’t hurt either.
“It’s an awesome summer job,” Saujon said. “People think they are too old, but I’ve seen 75- and 80-year-olds come up. You’re never too old to visit the ice cream man.”