Lucy’s Creamery, on 211 West High St., has recently set up shop to compete in Glassboro’s ever-crowded market of specialty desserts. Between student-favorite Rowan Boulevard eateries Cookie Munchers, Yo-Go and Kung Fu Tea, one might wonder what would set apart this unassuming ice cream shop off the beaten path.

When I walked into Lucy’s with a few of my friends, I noticed first how visually appealing the storefront is. Wide glass doors and bright lighting inside cast a gentle glow on picnic tables outside, a harsh juxtaposition to the interior’s psychedelic murals.

The second thing I noticed was the frankly absurd number of ice cream flavors and combinations available.

I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve come to identify a lot with the term “decision fatigue.” Rather than appealing to me, the seemingly endless consumer excesses granted by capitalism make me want to live as a backpacking bohemian free of all worldly possessions. The intimidatingly thorough menu boards of Lucy’s Creamery, backlit to strobe in different seizure-inducing colors, were no exception. Indeed, there were no fewer than two boards with sundae varieties, two with water ice flavors, one with hand-dipped ice cream flavors, one with toppings and one big central one with prices.

Was it overkill? Absolutely. But overkill, as will soon become abundantly apparent, is kind of the theme of Lucy’s Creamery.

While I tried to sort through the dizzying array of options, my companions ordered cups of whimsical sugar with names like “salty caramel truffle,” “unicorn” (a cake batter type of concoction with cookie pieces blended in), and “cookie monster” (vanilla ice cream dyed blue with both Oreos and cookie dough blended throughout). These descriptors did little to soothe my anxiety over choosing a single flavor, and so I eventually decided that it would be best to go straight to the source.

“What do you recommend?” I asked the woman working the counter.

She thought for a moment before offering the best customer service I have ever received at any ice cream establishment prior: “A strawberry cheesecake sundae,” she said.

According to one of the store’s many elaborate menu boards, the strawberry cheesecake sundae consists of “fluff and strawberry crunch,” “strawberry topping,” “cheesecake bites,” and “any flavor ice cream.” None of it feels very organic. I decided to go with the rational choice of the ice cream being strawberry cheesecake-flavored, to complete the effect. Not included on the menu board was the fact that they also slather the whole thing in a mountain of whipped cream and top it off with a maraschino cherry.

The whole thing took about ten minutes for the staff to prepare, and they looked like they were sweating while they did so. The strawberry cheesecake sundae, I guess, is an exhausting process.

I chose “child” size, which I took to mean “intended for a child” (as opposed to “intended for an adult”). However, I may have been confused, since this sundae seemed to be quite literally the size of a small toddler.

The strawberry cheesecake sundae from Lucy’s Creamery is among the more chaotic of God’s creations, and I am glad that I got to experience it in all of its glory.

Was it delicious? Yes; the cheesecake bites with the whipped cream and ice cream were a great combination and extremely well-prepared. Could I finish it? Absolutely not. It was simply too large and intimidating. In the end, I had to dump most of my soupy strawberry syrup goop in the trash. I was quite sad to do so, but I simply could not justify inhaling the entire thing.

Like I said, Lucy’s Creamery has a theme, and that theme is “overkill.”

But the price was fair (under ten dollars for two ice creams, which isn’t necessarily more expensive than two generic Dairy Queen blizzards), the atmosphere was pleasant, and the night was beautiful. My friends were all happy with their ice cream, and that, too, was its own reward.

Overall, I would recommend Lucy’s Creamery for anyone looking for something different or unique. Its storefront is a great addition to Glassboro, and I look forward to enjoying many more beautiful monstrosities of child-sized sundaes off of its ridiculous menu. The place is a downright delight, decision fatigue be damned.

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