Ice Creamery

redo: yep, that's right. I wrote another declamation...whatcha think?

Cotton-candy air; my skin tingles as each hair prickles up my sunburnt arms; the chill of Coldstone refreshes. A collection of squeaking chairs are in the window filled with sticky faces and drips of already-enjoyed goodness. Crumpled napkins are on the floor and streaky fingerprints are on the door. Exuberant workers greet new guests with a song and continue scooping, mixing, scraping, serving.

Sweet-tooth cravings melt in my mind as idea posters and menu boards burst with delightful mixes and sugary sweet suggestions tempting my taste buds. Milkshakes, sundays, cones, frozen cakes or take-home-gallons. Any combination imaginable—I wait in line.

Buckets of multi-colored sherbet and velvety rich ice cream are arrayed beneath shiny silver-trimmed glass, miniature spoons for tasting the wild possibilities, a visorred smile behind a hand ready to scoop whatever I wish. Vanilla is too boring, Double Dunked Death By Chocolate couldn’t be sweeter, and White Raspberry Coconut Cheesecake just shouldn’t be an ice cream. Intense frosty green speckled mint, definitely the best. A rainbow of tantalizing jars of jellybeans and marshmallows and crushed cookies and salty nuts. Hand-dipped sprinkle waffle cone? or maybe a dish to share?

Two scoops of frozen gold, chunks of Ande’s mints and a ribbon of thick fudge worked in. A swirl of whipped cream to top it off.