Not the typical ice cream season weather, but then again, it isn't ice cream season, ya see? And even though the weather the day before was reminiscent of ice cream season, it was easily 40 degrees colder today. But it's a sickness, this need for ice cream, ya see? And the dark season makes people depressed, ya see, and who needs "the light" when ya got ice cream, ya see?
The name's Bitter. A process server for hire who slings the best summonses around. A job where you spend most of your time in the car trying to find a bathroom decent enough to take a piss in. Today I was in Brockport, a postage stamp town apparently known for it's deadbeats. It's also the town where I know this dame. [Insert saxaphone music here...] Her name is Jessica. A diminutive woman with a trendy new hairdo and legs that go...no, wait, I've never seen her legs. I and my cohort of misfit freak friends had made plans to meet this Jessica. Everyone has been stressed lately. Family, work, money, school, careers...seems like there was always something that wasn't going right for any of us, and we'd had enough. We needed ice cream. And there was a Friendly's in Brockport.
The usual suspects were there: Maria, Mary Rose, Cheryl, Jessica, and me. But there were a couple of new odd ducks that joined the party. People who aren't regulars at our gatherings, but who were pleasant additions to our festivities this evening. Seems like the weird ones always flock together. First, there was Jessica's flame, Amanda, a blue-collar girl with a pink-collar sensibility, if you know what I mean. A woman who's soft heart betrays her gruff voice. And you could tell they were in love.
Then there was Sarah, a seemingly normal girl, but if she's keeping company with the likes of us, her normalcy must be suspect. A pretty, Italian girl with an attitude. A girl who's face says "What are YOU lookin' at?"
But a little ice cream can put a smile on anybody's face:
And so it was. Dark as early as 5:30. A cold, gusty wind with rain that turned into snow. Miles away from civilization at the ice cream parlor in a small college town. Eating enough chocolate to kill a cat. With friends who love and understand you and know how to make you feel good about your miserable, petty existence. Because it's all about the ice cream. [crescendo sax music and fade...]
Our Mascot, Alice, may she rest in peace 
