I went up in my bathing suit to get an ice cream cone at the East Hampton Main Beach lunch counter on Saturday. There was only this older man with a six-year-old in front of me, but the man was having a nasty go at the poor teenage soda jerk. The flavor the man wanted wasn’t there. It was supposed to be. He got madder and madder. Finally he said, “I’ll be back. And I don’t want to lose my place in line.” The two went off. Somebody was getting the bad news.
We waited. They didn’t return. How long do we wait? Hesitantly I ordered a vanilla cone. The boy scooped it as fast as he could while we both watched the screen door. I paid and got out of Dodge.