I want to be a cart vendor someday

“There Is No Spoon” sells various types of hearty mash out of a brown sherbet van with a brick chimney, somewhat crooked, toppling out of the machination like the Weasley’s Pisa-like abode. It pipes a thick column of steam out into the chilly air and out the sides, where passersby can warm gloveless hands or bitten cheeks. Our lentil/cheese whips get plopped down into oval cardboard dishes with folded crunchy-corn tortillas garnishing the edge as “spoons” for the mash. We oven seal it so it stays warm as you walk to your dreadful office meeting through the winter cold. $4 for a bowl… How about a soup cart? Yeah! A soup cart! We could start by selling 6 different soups. Soup cart would be the “oasis” of Denver’s winter-blown streets. Small, medium, and large. And we’d bake our own bread right there in the cart. Small, sweet rolls not to slippery gooey, not crumbly. 1 with a small, 2 with a medium, and 3 with a large. And we’d dust them with seeds. And we’d have surprise jelly roll days. And I’d play Czech telecasts from a portable set. The “Chili Slab” is a large tub of chili & a 14-inch loaf. Or how about just a working NewsCube, but only local news. It sounds fruity, but I’d like to see a newstand offer the LA Times right next to some Lakewood kid’s Adventures of Aquaman and some girl’s Spanish-language diatribes on the proliferation of Burger King’s in the downtown area. And the newstand could have it’s own publication, too, just to bring the local craze to ridiculous extremes. It’d be 25 cents, just for kicks. For big orders, I’d stuff everything into empty cereal boxes, since that’s all I eat, and for rainy days, I’d attach a double-side clip to the stuff so people can hang their bundle from inside their coats… Those are fruity ideas, but why the heck not?