How I Got Conned into Scooping Ice Cream Again

On Thursday, I decided to take a break from being bored and feeling depressed about turning 22 and go for a drive. I weaved in and out of the various backroads in the area, but upon looking at the gas gauge and realizing that I'd be responsible for filling it up if it went down any longer, I figured I'd make a stop.

I pulled into Eats and Sweets, off of rte 611 in Scotrun, PA - a place that I know well. I started working there when I was 14. I worked there every summer, with the exception of 2007 when I was in New York. When I started I was shy, clumsy, and awkward. My more recent years there proved to be less embarrassing, and I was top management, trainer, and employee #1. It's a modest place, built from the ground-up by Glenn, the same man who owns it to this day. I looked up at the giant road sign, pronouncing "Making the Poconos Sweeter Since 1983." Glad to see they used my idea.

I went in and was greeted with the usual fanfare by my second mother (the one that I actually tell things), Damaris. Damaris, a Colombian that could have been a model if she didn't marry the owner of an ice cream shop, pulled me into a deep hug and interrogated me about my life. Her accent is so thick that it feels like you've been inducted into a secret society when you actually get used to it enough to understand her. We talked for a while, and I assured her that no - I would not be working there this summer. I intended to find a real big girl job, and I couldn't do anything else. She seemed disappointed, but didn't try to argue with me.

As I turned to leave, she stopped me.

"Amy-Luna!" (An old nickname with a long-forgotten origin) "A lady from the Pocono Record is coming tomorrow morning right before open. The message you had us put on the big sign got a lot of attention. Do you want to come, since you are one of the old employees, and you can be in the picture?"
"I..uh..sure. Fine, I'll stop by."

The next morning I arrived, wearing my old Eats and Sweets T-Shirt that I had taken to wearing to bed lately. Soon after I got there I realized that no other employees were coming except for me. It was just me, the reporter, the photographer, Glenn, and Damaris. Glenn brought out all the old pictures from the last 25 years of the shop, and they gave a pretty solid interview. Glenn and Damaris got up, and I was left with the reporter.

"Can you spell your full name for me?"
"A-M-Y-K-A-N-E"
"Oh, that's an easy one."
"I try."
"So, Amy, is there anything you can tell me about working here? What's the weirdest thing someone has ever ordered?"
"Uh, one time I had a man ask for ants on his ice cream. It took me a minute to realize that he was referring to chocolate sprinkles."
"What have you enjoyed most about working here?"
I paused. "Look, this was my first job...and I've had a lot since. I made my first big mistakes here, and I learned my first lessons here. I even got into my first car accident here, when I drove into one of the planters in the side parking lot. Cost $1400 to fix the passenger door of my '92 Camry. I made the money to pay that bill working here. I had some amazing coworkers, and it really became more like a family than anything. Yeah, it gets a little crazy here sometimes, but the craziness is what prepared me for everything else I've been thrown into. And that's about it, thanks."

I shook the reporter's hand, got my picture taken making a sundae I invented 3 years ago (now a top-seller), and went back to the kitchen, where Damaris was making the first batch of chili.

"I'm not working today."
"I know."
.......
"I mean, I don't mind helping you out here and there, but it can't be like before. I can't work everyday."
"So what do you want - 2, 3 days?"
"...3 would be fine."
"Okay then Luna, how about Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Open to Close?"
"Why bother working a half day when I can just do a whole one?...I'll start Wednesday."

I left Eats and Sweets partially defeated, but a little optimistic. Hey, at least I'll have money to pay my bills, and it's not like I'm going to get sucked back into my typical run of 70-hour work weeks...right?