Ice Cream
This is a short story to utterly embarrass my good friend Mindy who works at Super Scoops near Deering High School...
So my friend Cecilia and I decided to get an ice cream after a long day of surfing at Scarborough beach. Upon arriving at Super Scoops with its eclectic selection of hard serve ice cream flavors, I introduced Mindy and Cecilia. Ceil and I each ordered a blizzard. Mindy, of course, took my order (like usual): a small peanut butter cup blizzard. Mindy handed me my blizzard through the pick-up window with a smiley face made of M&M's. I sat down next to Cecilia (who was already devouring her scrumptious Heath Bar blizzard) and dug into my own. It took less than a minute for the gigantic mound of ice cream to started melting over the thin-rimmed sides of the paper cup onto my hand and splattering onto my khaki capris. The chunks of Reese's cups jumped spontaneously from the ice cream and landed with a thud onto the ground. A nearby dog being held by his owner made an effort to lick the excess ice cream collecting in a heap on the tar.
I started to frantically spoon the excess ice cream from the dish into the trash can; I really wasn't sure what else to do. People standing in line for ice cream took alternating glances at my struggle to prevent this pool of vanilla from oozing all over me.
Finally, Stu, the owner of Super Scoops, motioned to me from the window and handed me a stack of napkins and an extra cup to aid me in my battle with this ice cream.
At last I was able to enjoy my treat. However, in retrospect I think I should have gotten the german chocolate cake shake with malt.
I'd like to thank Mindy for dishing me this unusually large sized ice cream. Clearly she wanted to show me her devotion as an ice-cream-scooper-friend, but now I have to wash my khaki capris and my hands were all sticky on the way back. Oh well.
So my friend Cecilia and I decided to get an ice cream after a long day of surfing at Scarborough beach. Upon arriving at Super Scoops with its eclectic selection of hard serve ice cream flavors, I introduced Mindy and Cecilia. Ceil and I each ordered a blizzard. Mindy, of course, took my order (like usual): a small peanut butter cup blizzard. Mindy handed me my blizzard through the pick-up window with a smiley face made of M&M's. I sat down next to Cecilia (who was already devouring her scrumptious Heath Bar blizzard) and dug into my own. It took less than a minute for the gigantic mound of ice cream to started melting over the thin-rimmed sides of the paper cup onto my hand and splattering onto my khaki capris. The chunks of Reese's cups jumped spontaneously from the ice cream and landed with a thud onto the ground. A nearby dog being held by his owner made an effort to lick the excess ice cream collecting in a heap on the tar.
I started to frantically spoon the excess ice cream from the dish into the trash can; I really wasn't sure what else to do. People standing in line for ice cream took alternating glances at my struggle to prevent this pool of vanilla from oozing all over me.
Finally, Stu, the owner of Super Scoops, motioned to me from the window and handed me a stack of napkins and an extra cup to aid me in my battle with this ice cream.
At last I was able to enjoy my treat. However, in retrospect I think I should have gotten the german chocolate cake shake with malt.
I'd like to thank Mindy for dishing me this unusually large sized ice cream. Clearly she wanted to show me her devotion as an ice-cream-scooper-friend, but now I have to wash my khaki capris and my hands were all sticky on the way back. Oh well.