My Life in Gray and Brown

1

My life is the equivalent of running an Ice Cream Shop in the middle of winter. The two terms contradict each other, I know. You get the once summer ice cream consumers switching to extra caffeinated, extra dark, extra sweet, and most definitely extra hot coffee by the time the brink of Autumn hits. And if they still have some life left in them, it might even be hot chocolate.
There's always the few out of the bunch that stick to eating ice cream regularly, no matter how cold or gloomy the weather gets. I'm not talking about the overly obsessed ice cream addict who eats a gallon for breakfast and maybe adds in a little scoop of strawberry in there somewhere for some fruity nutritious variety, or the emotionally depressed ex- girlfriend who decided to add on a few extra pounds. Or even the ten year old birthday boy and all of his tiny little friends who obviously ate like twelve sugar packets before they even arrived at the party. No. I'm talking about those people who are looking for something. People who have dreams that are too big and maybe it helps every so often to sit by the fire with a nice bowl of ice cream, not even caring that the fire is turning it into a puddle of mint chocolate soup. I'm talking about the kids who live in the moment.They dream of the summer. A place and time where nobody cares if you eat ice cream before dinner, just as long as you have dinner. A place where you can get things done unless you don't want to be productive. And if so, you can just sit and watch time pass you by.
So here I am: a regular. Making my way off Hazelgreen to an Ice Cream Parlor called "Jan and Barry's" that rested on the corner. The wind and rain in an angry fit. I open the door to the shop as a tiny little bell  announces my presence and the sweet smell of diabetes wafts into my nose. The Open sign flickers it's fluorescent pink and blue lights, making a buzzing sound like a tiny trapped fly as I shut the heavy door. The minty blue walls gleamed like taffy under the bright lights. Swinging 60's music was playing out of an old Jukebox that rested in the corner. Old records decorated the walls, pictures of girls in poodle skirts hung in black frames. A signed photo of Bon Jovi lived by the cash register, not a wrinkle or tear on it. A cardboard cutout of The Beatles rested by the Toppings bar, a place where kids snuck way too much candy while they played on the old video games, Pac Man, Pin Ball, and Frogger. I secretly think that Barry placed it there on purpose. Music notes danced on the walls from a beautiful guitar hanging above the Counter. A tiny train existed below it. We would turn this thing on during birthday parties or on special occasions and kids would ooh and ahh at the sight of the train chugging along the walls of the shop. Off white christmas lights dangled from the ceiling. Even though they were meant for Christmastime, we had them on more often than not. I made my way past tables and chairs that rested on the Checkerboard floors, reminding me when Barry and I converted it into a chess board, but discontinuing it after realizing that neither of us knew how to actually play chess. I got to the metal wrap around counter and sat on one of the hot rod red stools. I took a breath. I grabbed my bag of things and swung it off my shoulder onto the chair next to me.
Barry came out of the back, looking like a complete mess.
"Henry! I was wondering when you would stop by!" He said, quite happily. He then went to the sink and washed off. I smiled. Barry looked like a young, but bald, Jolly Santa Claus. He was dressed in the uniform which was a bright cotton candy pink, but for some reason there were specks of green all over him.
"So, Mr. Brown, what will it be today? I'm guessing three scoops Blue Bubblegum with a cherry on top?" He said, saying my normal order. He then scooped out a dish and handed it to me over the counter. I was about to get out my wallet when he said, "It's on me today." I couldn't do anything other than thank him.
Barry was an inventor. On days where business was slow, or if he had time to mess around, he could be seen in the back, cooking up some new and unthought of flavor.
"What is that all over your uniform?" I said, with a light chuckle.
"Oh, right. I've been working on a new flavor of icecream. Spinach flavor. To go along with the tomato basil flavor that I created yesterday!" He exclaimed. And I almost threw up in my mouth.
"Are you opening up an Italian restaurant? You already have italian soda and gelato...at least I think that last one is italian- but anyway, is something wrong?" I asked. Barry was an odd guy, and often his mood affected his icecream flavors. So really, when he was under a lot of stress, his flavors would go all over the place. Then Barry did something that made me shiver. He let out a cry of anger. Or really, a cry of mixed emotion. He then sauntered off into the back. When he came back, his eyes were reddened as if from crying, and he had a milkshake that was heald carelessly in his hand.
"Um, Barry? Is everything all right?" I asked, almost afraid of what he might say.
He balled his fists until his knuckles turned white. He then took a swig of the milkshake as if it were a very bitter tasting liquor.
"It's my Anniversary. Or, more like the memory of what used to be. And Janet is happy as ever. Dating one of those guys who works for Ben and Jerry's." He said.
It was quiet for a while. Barry's angered gaze never left the cardboard cut out of The Beatles. John Lennon and I kept our mouths shut.
Jan and Barry's! They obviously started the shop together, I thought.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked, quietly.
Barry quickly headed over to the sink, and began to wash dishes.
"Oh, no," he said. "I'd rather not. You know this town, Henry. Makes me feel like I live with a bunch of gossiping old ladies. Or, more like a church stuck in the 70's. Either one, I'm not very fond of." He said.
Barry was right about one thing. This town was a mess.
I lived in a tiny town called Pinkleton. Home of the famous hot dog company, "Pinkleton's Weiners". Yes, the name absolutely sickens me. We were so small, and yet we had so many tourists due to the fact that we hosted our annual hot dog eating contest in the summer. I did not participate in these events, because the thought of a fat guy with bad hygiene scarffing down hot dogs in the scortching heat wasn't exactly my idea of a good time. And my distaste torward hot dogs didn't help me either. We had a newspaper company that seemed as if it were ran by bored old folks. "Pink's Daily Gossip" featured nothing but blabbering tales that would sweep the town and leave them whispering in excited voices and pointing fingers. It also held a small collection of pig comics for the young ones. There was no doubt that I would be reading the devastating story of how Barry and his ex wife ended their relationship. It was as if the newspaper never wanted us to forget those terrible memories. The newspaper had a very good way of gathering information and it always led me wondering how they got it. I then thought of Barry tied up in a dark room. There would be a shadowy figure in the corner of the room, who would switch on a blinding light and ask him personal questions. If Barry did not answer immediately, they would threaten to destroy his signed picture of Bon Jovi. Something terrible like that, I'd imagine.
"Barry, if anything, I would want to hear this devistating story from you. Not from some bored ol' bat." I said, making Barry smile. Friends can come about no matter what age.
I gathered my stuff, getting ready to leave. As Barry saw me nearing the door, he shouted, "You might want to come back around 4 tomorow. There is somebody that I would like you to meet!"
I raised my brow, and smirked my signature smile. "I'll be there!" I hollered. He gave a friendly wave goodbye, heading into the back room, probably to go work on his glorious spinanch icecream nightmare-to-your- tastebuds creation. As I exited the shop, I thought of all the strange new possibilites that could happen tomorow. All because I said, "I'll be there." and because of Barry's friendly ways. I smiled. Life was a mystery, and who knows what I would discover. The missing puzzle peice is out there. Waiting to be found.