It was hot and my wife was shopping on Bleecker. I was bored. Bored and hot. As she went to look at something of no interest to me, I saw Cones across the street, mocking me with its air conditioning and promise of frozen confections and slipped inside.
I ordered a cone of tutti frutti mascarpone ice cream and felt like I had just been entrusted with the eternal secret to happiness. As I walked down Bleecker and ate my ice cream, I couldn't believe the sheer number of people who were smiling but not eating this ice cream. They only thought they knew happiness.
As my wife reappropriated the cone, we found ourselves back in Cones within minutes, ordering another and sampling the various flavors.
Corn ice cream? It's surprisingly good.
Jack Daniels Ice Cream? The only ice cream that costs $1 to sample and double the price to buy, you can tell it is made with premium ingredients (i.e., whiskey). The only problem is that, unlike cooked sauces containing spirits, the alcohol is not burned off in the process.
We got drunk on ice cream.
We're going back. I'm surprised we left.