‘Moms gone wild’ posed with stolen Fanci Freez sign, but case went cold. Then this happened, Boise

Annoying as it is, Fanci Freez owner Bill Hawes understands how his drive-thru sign disappeared.

And why two women wound up posing with it in a photo shared on social media.

“I’m sure there’s alcohol or something involved in the taking of the sign,” he says.

Three weeks after it vanished at 1402 W. State St., the case had gone colder than a Fanci Freez milkshake. Hawes had even gotten a $420 quote to replace the “Sorry we’re closed” sign, which let customers know the drive-thru was done for the night.

But late Tuesday or early Wednesday, the sign reappeared. Next to a dumpster.

“It showed up in the middle of the night!” Hawes says, adding: “It’s still kind of a mystery.”

Thelma and Louise

After the sign went missing Feb. 19, Fanci Freez contacted the Boise Police Department. More crucially, the restaurant did its own sleuthing. Asking for help, Fanci Freez shared a picture on Facebook of the alleged thieves. They were smiling with the missing sign inside a home — with a caption: “moms gone wild.”

The photo wasn’t easily trackable, Hawes says. “One of our employees got it from a friend who said they saw it on Snapchat. So they had a picture of it. Sent it to this kid. He took a screenshot of it. That’s why it keeps getting grainy.”

Nevertheless, Hawes received helpful messages — well, hopefully helpful. “One of the leads said: ‘Yeah, I work with one of these people. I’m pretty sure of it.’ ” Hawes says. ”It was that kind of thing.”

Tactfully, Hawes says, he messaged about half a dozen women.

Still, he has no idea who returned the sign.

“I don’t really care who Thelma and Louise really are,” he adds. “I’m glad it’s back. I mean, geez.”

75th anniversary

Located in downtown Boise, Fanci Freez is near lots of bars, unlike its Meridian location at 1750 W. McMillan Road. “I wish I could say that’s the only thing that’s been stolen down there,” Hawes explains.

This year, Fanci Freez in Boise will celebrate its 75th anniversary.

“We’d like to make kind of a splash this summer, of sorts,” Hawes says. “Ice cream and summer, 75 years, hurray! Pulling up old stories — like my mom went to Boise High in the ’50s, she loved it.

“Just dealing with dumb stuff like this kind of takes us off track a little bit.”

The “mystery of the moms gone wild” may not be solved. But at least it’s resolved. And if you want to laugh about it, Hawes is cool with that.

“No, it’s funny,” he agrees. “It’s ridiculous.”

This story was originally published March 9, 2022 at 12:15 PM.