So the old ice cream shack at Golden Sands has finally fallen into the sea, victim of a crumbling shoreline as flimsy as the brittle waffle cones the shack used to serve. I recall how the burden of two scoops of vanilla would result in significant structural damage to the cone that supported them. God forbid anyone requested the additional weight of slivered almonds or other toppings. The trick was to devour your treat as quickly as possible before the cone collapsed and half-licked balls of ice cream tumbled to the ground with a sickening splat. In those days, the shack was always surrounded by many tearful children whose parents could provide no consolation.
But that was many years ago, back when I was an anxious and sweet-toothed adolescent. The shack itself had been abandoned sometime in the early 2000s and was now a weatherbeaten ruin even the town couldn't be bothered to demolish. Occasionally I'd stroll by at sunset, observing how the multicolored delights the shack once contained were all melted away, except for that single tub of unloved and unscooped Stracciatella which was no doubt still inside, cobwebbed in a corner like a rusting drum of toxic waste. Nobody ever ordered Stracciatella as far as I know, but since the owner was Italian he insisted it remain on the menu regardless. I wonder whatever happened to Sal Gelato? His family came to the New World and built a business on a part of it that was now eroded into nothingness. Prego.
Who would want to eat ice cream here these days anyway? Even the golden sands the area was named after vanished back into the ocean during the late nineteen-eighties, leaving nothing but a narrow band of coastal wasteland. The washed-up sea-glass is still sharp and the seaweed smells like Death's armpits. I think I remember sun-kissed, curvaceous dunes and salty air but I'm not sure anymore. Perhaps it was always this barren and, hypnotized by summer and the illusions of a youthful sugar rush, I just didn't notice back then. It's probably best to let those memories be washed away with the shoreline before they reveal layers of rotting, flaky sentimentality.
And besides, there's a brand new ice cream franchise in the strip mall only a mile down the road, offering a larger variety of flavors in more substantial waffle cones, including fat-free frozen yoghurt and artificially sweetened sorbet. It's called Chill Out Palace, and despite not having water views, yet, you can take your time enjoying your ice cream without fear of it falling on the floor. Of course, I usually order the Stracciatella because that's become my favorite flavor in adulthood. Would Sal Gelato be smug or bitter? I don't know, he never gave much away. Whatever, his work at Golden Sands was definitely done in every sense of the term.
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