Ice Cream Therapy

"Hi, how can I help you?"

I was supposed to be happy. I should've been happy.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

School was out, the sun was shinning, and I was with some of my best friends. In an ice cream parlor no less. There was no reason to be unhappy.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

I don't remember why I was upset. I do remember trying to disappear into that spot on the floor I was staring at, trying to drown out the dull roar of people everywhere around me, wanting to escape and sulk somewhere away from here by myself.

"Hey buddy!"

I could hear the smile in her voice without looking up. Now she was talking to me.

"What can I get for you today?"

Maybe it was her piercing blue eyes and curly, deep red hair beneath a blue trucker hat that I saw behind the counter when I finally looked up. Maybe it was the absence of the scripted greeting she had given every customer before me. Maybe she saw that I just needed a little something sweet to rub on my wounded ego.

Whatever it was, it wasn't the cookies 'n' cream perched on top of a waffle cone that had me feeling like I could face the world once again by the time I hit the door.