Tuesday, September 7, 2010

True cruelty and transformation

One day in Newark I heard the Good Humor bells going down Huntington Terrace.   I rushed upstairs of 88, and got my quarter.   By this time the good humor man was down the block to Huntington and Seymour Ave.   Well I caught up to him on the corner and asked for an original ice cream bar....vanilla ice cream with chocolate covering.  I gave up my money and was handed a bar.   The good humor man drove off down Huntington Terrace towards Beth Israel Hospital.  I opened the wrapper, bit into the bar, and practically went into shock.   The ice cream was some kind of light brown stuff and it tasted HORRIBLE.    I couldn't bear to eat it.  The guy was gone, and I was too shy and scared to protest anyway (I assumed I had made some mistake.)   I ran home, and my mother identified this as coffee ice cream.    How can I look back now and understand, but it was a really bad bad moment.  

Now my favorite icecream at Cold Stone's is coffee lovers' delight.   What goes around comes around.

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