Just around the corner

Jerry had been talking about how great it was the whole week. It was smooth. It was delectable. It melted on your tongue like little drops of bliss. It was far and away the best damn ice cream you would ever have. It sounded like it as going to be heaven in a cone.

Unfortunately he had forgotten where it was.

We drove in circles. We took lefts. We took rights. We went down the same short main street to the point where I knew the order of the antique stores that lined the narrow thoroughfare by heart. I could have listed what was in each window.

I kept my eye out for this horde of people surrounding this delectable destination but no one was out on this stupidly hot and humid day. Not even the most ardent of dessert hunters. Everyone else was prudently inside where it was air conditioned and cool. That is to say, everyone but us.

We were riding around in Jerry’s thudding ’88 hatchback with its heat magnet of an interior and broken AC. If we had been going more than ten miles a hour, having the windows down might of helped. Of course, going more than ten miles an hour meant we might miss the radiant star hanging in the sky above this elusive parlor.

Every once in a while Jerry would apologize gruffly to the steering wheel. Alternatively he’d growl at the asphalt that wavered in front of the bug spattered wind shield and rolled with a sticky sound under the tires. His frustration would usually boil over once we reached one end of town. He’d curse and turn us about for another reconnaissance mission through the sleepy town.

I had given up suggesting that we ask for directions. I had only mentioned once that perhaps he had the wrong town. That had been followed by the rather pessimistic idea that the store had closed. But we didn’t stop for directions from the non-existent pedestrians. He was one hundred and ten percent certain that this was the right town. And no place this good would close.

I sunk down into the seat as we made another pass and stuck my bare feet out the window in search of a breeze. I had pretty much given up. I was tired of being in the heat. I was sick of being stuck to a leather passenger seat. I had a pint at home in the freezer.

Advertisements

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s