Unable to further resist temptation, I pulled into Dairy Queen’s parking lot.  It was 100 degrees outside and a Blizzard was calling.

I walked up to the counter and placed my order.  Some mixed berry cheesecake concoction of some sort awaited me.

Taking my order, the clerk paused and asked, “Are you sure that you don’t want to try our limited time SPAM Blizzard?”

Momentarily stunned, I remembered the t-shirt that I was wearing and smiled.

That clerk really knew my tastes and had created a Dairy Queen fan for life.