I visited an outdoor ice-cream stand yesterday. It had a long line of Mom's and Dad's and kids waiting for cones with sprinkles, sundaes, and milk shakes. There were groups of kids in various uniforms, baseball, karate and a couple of older guys wearing tank tops that said, "Bill's tires." They were tall and they talked about basketball so I guess that was their game.
It brought back so many memories of when I was a kid and the soft ice-cream stand in my neighborhood. There are so many things that change with time, but an ice-cream stand is not one of them. They somehow stay the same. Somewhat dirty. Spider webs nested in the yellow lights. Flies around the trash can, along with empty dixie cups that missed the can opening. The concrete or tarmac in front of the tiny widows is littered with stains of dropped cones and cups. Kids still get the chocolate and the adults get the vanilla. I still get the chocolate. I guess it sustains my inner-child.
I had a hot fudge sundae with peanuts and whipped cream. It had the tongue tasting joy of ambrosia and the culinary grace of melted pearls. Damn it was good.
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