Sometimes my blogs are really “heavy,” or so I have been told. It was suggested that perhaps I write about my Diet Orange Sunkist addiction. But, I will save that one for another frivolous blog post.
Tonight I choose to write about something else.
You see, I have another addiction or let’s call it a simple pleasure in life.
Each week, I drive back and forth to Connecticut. Soon that will be ending. In two weeks to be exact. On my way home each week, I have made it a habit to stop in Branford, CT.
A long time ago after my husband passed, I had a boyfriend, and we dated for four years. Can I say that they were the best four years? Probably not. Did I learn a few things? Sure. A widow should be careful of her emotional state. Enough said.
One night in tears after we broke up (it truly was for the best), my father, a very matter of fact person, said let’s go for a ride. You see my father evidently had been going for a ride for the last several years.
Each night he drove from his home (a nice one where my bedroom overlooked the bay – oh how I miss my bedroom) to the Wareham McDonalds. He said that the gals there really knew how to make a cone. So, as all good Dad’s do, he took me to the McDonald’s in Wareham. When we got there, he said to the gal, “Make it a big one!” And, lo and behold, she did.
Well for an emotionally distraught female, an ice cream cone did the trick. Perhaps that was the start of my food addiction. One wonders. Then he liked to ride through the backroads of Middleboro and Rochester to come back home.
Much was said and not said during that ride, but one thing for sure is that I was introduced to the cone. Nice and light, plus very low calorie too. Probably full of chemicals, but what isn’t these days.
Like father like daughter (my mother would argue and say probably too much so), I occasionally venture out for a prized cone. I have toned down my habit. It once upon a time was every night – summer, fall, winter, and spring.
There are these two cute gals who work the counter each week in Branford. Never fail, each week, I arrive at the service station, head straight to the restroom and then to the McDonald’s counter. I proceed to order one large Diet Coke and one LARGE ice cream cone. At first, they said, “We only have one size cone.” I replied, “I know that, but make it large.”
This week, I made my weekly trip and stopped as usual in Branford. As I walked up to the counter, the gals had smiles of recognition on their faces. And, I proceeded to order one large Diet Coke and one LARGE ice cream cone. This time they giggled. And, I giggled back.
I always get my cup first. I have a tendency to spill my drink if I have too many things in my hand at once. As I turned around to get my cone, WONDERS OF WONDERS…it was large. And, they were so proud. Very proud. And, I exclaimed, “Holy Moly, THAT IS A BIG ONE! You guys are awesome!”
Holy smokes, Batman – those women are EXPERT LARGE CONE MAKERS!
You see I guess there is a moral to this story.
Working in Connecticut near the New York border, I find that most people lack a general overall sense of respect for another human being. Just this week alone, I witnessed two store clerks being “chewed out” by customers. Feeling empathetic, I went up to both clerks afterward and apologized. I have no idea what I even apologized for. Perhaps just a lack of humanity.
This world we live in is frightening. And, I don’t mean in a violent sense, I mean in an “ego” sense. We barely look at each other, we barely talk to each other, and we can’t even be civilized to another human being just doing their job.
I find that when I try to strike a conversation with a random person, they look at me as if I have two or sometimes even three heads. I feel like the odd one. A weirdo.
I am really saddened by it all these days. Perhaps I am just getting too old.
Well, I will miss these gals in Branford. I made them giggle, and they made me giggle. Isn’t that what we should be doing with each other. I may make tons of money, and they may make minimum wage. But, that doesn’t mean that I treat them any less than a brother or a sister, for that is what we are. We are all part of one human family.
Their ONE LARGE CONE was an affirmation that I treated them like a sister, with dignity and respect.
Maybe this is a frivolous post, or maybe, in the end, it isn’t. I find that most of the posts I write are usually surprises at what they unearth. And, for that person who insists on my Diet Sunkist essay, perhaps that too will have a deeper meaning.
And, Dear Dad, thank you for the many lessons you have taught. Both implicit and explicit.
Heck, he was only a diesel truck mechanic who didn’t make it past the 8th grade. But, that doesn’t make him any less than a genius for his mechanical abilities. I mean brilliant. For the fact is, he was able to retire at 55 – not bad for someone who didn’t even make it to high school!
I know whence I come from. And, I know where I am going. I am off to love humanity and its vastness. Then I will have my ONE LARGE ICE CREAM CONE.
There you have my one attempt at a frivolous blog post. Diet Orange next up on the list.
A girl and her cone never to be parted!
P.S. – Mr. Simmons, Jr., I just couldn’t keep it light! Maybe next time.