It's in the job description. You're in elected office so you have to interact with the proles. You go to the coffee shop and eat soggy waffles. You take the Premier of Russia to the corner for a grease-burger and fries. You stop in to get some cool refreshment in Milwaukee and start to step on your stuff...
Frozen custard is something you don't see very much anymore. I grew up with it in Chicago, but can't recall the last time I saw a frozen custard outlet. We've got frozen yogurt and that frozen dairy product that oozes from machines in Mickey D's and Dairy Queens and of course plenty of ice cream stores. But no custard joints spotted recently.
It wasn't a bad moment when the Delaware Delinquent dropped in and asked for an ice cream in the custard shop. The owner corrected him and was probably happy for the publicity which would come from the exposure.
True to form the Assistant Abettor in Chief to the Messiah doffed his standard government issue black suit jacket (acrylic, three button, summer-weight, shade 1523) and perched a jaunty paper hat on his carefully coifed hair plugs to get some working man pictures of him filling a couple of custard cones from the machines.
But, then it went terribly wrong:
Never Call a Voter a Smart-Ass
Mr. Veep, the reason you stopped in was to listen to the people. When the people jokingly point out a problem in their lives, pay attention. When the man suggests that taxes might be too high for the common folk, don't smack him down. Thank him graciously for his hospitality and tell him you'll work very hard to see what can be done.
How tough would that be?