Do you give out cones if you can’t be sure I’m not a Dave, and I’ve got my hand out already?
(Oh. Well, it was worth a shot.)
My son will probably be a Dave someday, but he’s too young for ice-cream. Can I have it?
I’m a mommy–I always have napkins.
(He’s 11 months and we call him Baby. MR Baby.)
Sorry, I’m not a Dave. I’m a David. Actually, I’m the David.
My real name is Dave but people call me MaryAnn.
The whole time my mother was pregnant with me, her doctor insisted I was a boy, so my parents picked out a boy’s name for me; David Joel. It’s not my fault I was a girl, so that should count, right? I mean, it’s what my name was supposed to be. And it would have been, too, but my mother didn’t keep me in the oven long enough and my handle fell off (that’s exactly what the doctor told her when I was 6 weeks early and not the boy he’d insisted I’d be. Hehehe)
So I’d like to be an honorary Dave for a day and collect on that offer of an ice cream cone, if that’s ok. I’ll have the swirl, like Demo’s having. Thank you. 
My little brother is named David. Everyone, and I mean everyone, calls him Dave. Except me. I call him “Vid” because I support equal rights for second syllables. It’s a compulsion.
So, Goose, does this mean I should settle for only the cream? or only the cone?
::::::steps to microphone, prepared to lie if necessary::::::
I had a very cool boyfriend in high school named David. He was a Swedish exchange student. His parents bought me a plane ticket and flew me to Sweden for a month-long visit, the winter after graduation.
My first husband’s name was David.
Soooo, while I’m not actually a Dave or a David, I’ve known a few in the Biblical sense. Dammit, I’ve earned and ice cream cone. Got any with those little gumballs at the bottom?
Well, gosh, I’m glad I stopped by here one last time before closing up for the evening. I wouldn’t have wanted to leave all you nice folks standing out on the sidewalk all night.
Let’s see now…
Here’s one for the Monster Dave (according to the IRS, you can call yourself anything you want, as long as it’s not done with intent to defraud, didja know that?)
Val2K, sweetie, we’re not checking IDs. We are celebrating Daveness; let the ice cream flow like–well, not like water, 'cause that would be messy. You know what I mean. Here you go. Lick the side there quick, it’s melting.
Cher: What? Too young for ice cream? Bite your tongue! No, don’t really…Glad you brought your own napkins, “be prepared”, huh? You can have his if you let him have at least one lick. (He’s not allergic, is he?)
Ah, “The David” by Michelangelo–one of my favorite pieces of sculpture, although, I will have to say, I think he has funny-looking ears. Never mind, you can still have ice cream. If you want some. Do you? Do statues eat ice cream?
And here’s an ice cream cone for MaryAnnDave. Mary Dave? Poster usually known as Mary Ann? Lemme guess, you want a chocolate-vanilla swirl, right?
Shayna’s handle fell off? Eewwwww! that is so gross…Never mind, you can have ice cream anyway, we are non-discriminatory towards those of indiscriminate gender. Here you go, one swirl cone. Maybe Cher can let you have a napkin? Thanks, sweetie.
AsUWish, you may have ice cream solely on the basis of having had the good taste to choose a user name from one of my favorite books (and movies). But the fact that you also have a brother named David helps, too, as does your willingness to lie a tiny bit if necessary to get ice cream. I think that’s a useful skill in today’s society. And I did invite you to do it, so it’s my fault. Here you go, the whole thing, ice AND cream AND cone. Enjoy! 
Cristi, you are of course entitled to an ice cream cone on the basis of your long acquaintance with many people named Dave. But I’m sorry, I live at the bottom of a mine shaft and I don’t get out much, and I’m not sure what you mean by “gumballs at the bottom”. Is that a Dairy Queen thing? I think the sign on the store here says “Baskin Robbins”. But hey, I guess I can walk across the mall parking lot over to the DQ if that’s what it takes. Or is it like rainbow sprinkles?
I’m not a Dave, but I’m a big Dave fan (Dave Letterman, Dave Barry). And I need chocolate ice cream. Please? Bambi eyes
“I’m Dave and so’s my wife”
(Shamelessly stolen from Monty Python’s Life of Brian–I couldn’t find any Shakespeare quotes)
Can we PLEASE stop talking about “handles falling off”? Some of us are pretty concerned about atrophy as it is…
I’ve heard that (usually from some witty femme fatale) for most of my life…
But I’ll take a double-scoop of Starbuck’s Mocha Chip, please.
-David
Right where’s that dork giving us a hard time.
I can find another use for an extra large cone!!!
hmmmm Cookies and Cream for me please (double scoop natch…)
It’s in the 90s here in Iowa…looking forward to my ice cream headache
dave
The very best thing to do on a hot, muggy summer morning is eat ice cream.
Poor Kat’s feeling chocolate-deprived? Here you go, sweetie (I just can’t resist those Bambi eyes). Eat it quick, it’s up to 85 degrees already. Illinois Power SWEARS they’ve got enough juice to run everybody’s AC without brownouts, but I dunno. We may have to get the wading pool out later.
Hi, Dry! Hey, that rhymes! Here’s an ice cream cone for you, and here’s one for your lovely wife, for putting up with your Monty Python jokes. P.S. If you’ve got a problem with handle atrophy, maybe you should discuss it with the Mrs. (They say ice cream is very good for that–it’s the calcium. Stiffens things up. wink wink nudge nudge say no more say no more – eh?)
SoulFrost, if you don’t mind standing here for a minute whilst I trot over to Starbucks…
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Okay, here we go, one double scoop mocha chip! Didn’t melt too much, did it?
Casdave, my man! One ice cream cone to eat, and one extra large sugar cone, for “personal reasons”. Is one gonna be enough? You could prob’ly do a bunch of neat stuff with a whole stack…
Whoops, sorry, our first simulpost ice cream cone! Here you go, BeagleDave, enjoy your ice cream headache! Can you believe, one day last week I was wearing a sweatshirt, it was down in the 40’s. Let’s blame global warming or something, shall we?
Well, my dad’s name is Dave and my oldest son’s name is Dave. But since they are not here right now and it seems such a waste to let them go uneaten, can I have their ice cream? Black cherry with extra sprinkles will do nicely, thank you very much. Gumballs on the bottom? Must be a Flint thing… (ducking)
David Lee Roth hasn’t checked in yet? Hmmm. Probably doesn’t like chocolate.
Peace,
mangeorge
I’ll have a scoop of bubble gum flavored in a waffle cone. For some reason I’ve been in the mood for one lately.
If no bubble gum, I’ll go for mocha.
My surname starts with B, too. When I first signed on, I was very confused.
A couple years ago, when I was in the Machinery Division on board USS Tennessee [Trident-class submarine full of hot nuclear death ] two of the other fifteen guys were also named Dave. We used to work out together when off watch. At one point it occurred to us that “Three Sweaty Mechanics Named Dave” might be a really interesting name for a band. What you all think? And can I get scoops for the other guys if I promise back-stage passes?