All of which reminds me of being struck dumb with incomprehension while purchasing an ice cream cone.
A little background: the Great Lakes area of the US contains serious dairy country, and Michiganians bear the dubious distinction of eating more ice cream per capita than the inhabitants of any other state. We take our dairy as important business, and there are relatively strict laws on the content and labeling of dairy products (even more so in Wisconsin, the dairy state). In Michigan, "ice cream" must contain at least 10% milk fat and at least 20% total milk solids; frozen confections containing lesser amounts are called ice milk, or, in the case of the stuff dispensed by machine at cone stands, soft serve.
Anyway, I was in DC on business, and was wandering a mall one afternoon killing time, when I came upon an ice cream kiosk. I went up and ordered a scoop of ice cream in a cone, and the clerk asked me whether I wanted hard ice cream or soft ice cream. I stood there for a moment, dazed at the possibility that she was offering to give me a half-melted scoop of ice cream in a cone, until I realized that "soft ice cream" meant soft serve.
