But,... I Ordered a Chocolate Malt

I put my change away, and picked up the straw. I put a quarter in the tip jar. I was feeling generous and life was good. Standing just to the side of the purchase window by the price list for the cones, I made a mental note that the waffle cones were priced at fifteen cents more than the sugar cones. I tore just enough of the wrapper off of one end of the straw to blow the remaining wrapper through the air into the galvanized trash can nearby. Everything is perfect. Turning to walk away, I took one sip from the straw and immediately noticed that something was amiss. My eyes began to roll back in my head and I thought for a moment that I may lose consciousness. There was no discernment of malt,... none whatsoever. For a moment, I thought that I had suddenly lost my sense of taste and wondered if perhaps some olfactory receptors within my brain were somehow malfunctioning. But before jumping to the hasty conclusion that I may have just suffered a stroke, I decided to gather my few remaining senses and return to the window to inquire about a possible error with my order. I stirred the drink with my straw and took another sample of the mixture. Quickly covering the three steps back to the window making sudden eye contact with the lady in the midst of ordering a Banana Split for herself, and a Vanilla Cone for her daughter. I lean in from the side. I was an intruder, I did not own this space. I am allowed, I thought. This is important. "I don't taste any malt in this.", I say in a polite, yet somewhat panicked manner.

The young lady replies that I had ordered a Chocolate Shake and that is what she had provided. I was somewhat relieved at this point to realize that I had not, in fact, suffered some sort of dastardly neurological incident, but, sadly, it was not enough. My priorities shifted, I had to know if I had communicated my order correctly. At this point, I thought that I must quickly interview witnesses to the event. Time was of the essence, this was mundane trivia, at best. What did the generous guy with the amazing straw wrapper skills actually order? My head turns as my eyes dart about. I begin looking for an ally to provide favorable confirmation. Before I could verbalize the question, a young man holding a skateboard says, "He said malt, I heard him." Then the Banana Split lady chimed in immediately that she had also heard me order a malt.

I looked at the tip jar. There is a quarter near the top. The jar opening was narrow but my assessment was that I could retrieve it, should it become necessary. Meanwhile, an offering of correction had been formulated and was being presented to me. I slowly pulled my attention away from the tip jar and began to listen intently. A replacement drink was offered, and declined. I inquired if some malt powder could just be added to the drink that I already had. After some hushed discussion, I am told that the powder could be added but I would have to mix it myself because I had already drank from the beverage. I could feel the weight of the gathering crowd as their quest for confection was being delayed by this fiasco. I decided that I would drink the shake, as is, and turned to depart. As I turned, against my better judgment, I found myself reaching for that quarter. I clumsily knocked over the tip jar. In the attempt to catch it before it fell over, I lost control of my chocolate shake and gravity quickly took it to the ground along with some of the change from the jar. The bulk of the change and all of the paper money remained within the confines of the glass envelope. I retrieved the coins from the ground and returned them to their rightful place. I am offering my apology for my knocking over the jar when the manager suddenly appears at the window with a Chocolate Malt and a new straw. I pick them up.

Turning to walk away I begin to process my feelings of embarrassment. Things are slowly getting back to normal. I tear the paper, blow the remaining wrapper off of the straw into the galvanized trash receptacle. In my mind I imagine how pleased the crowd must be to witness two exhibits of my straw paper blowing skills in such a very short time frame. Resisting the impulse to turn and see the looks of amazement on their faces, I hit my stride. Taking a sip of the malted, I hear a lady behind me in the distance ordering a Banana Split and a Vanilla Cone. And, once again, all is right with the world. Everything is perfect. I have a Chocolate Malt in my right hand, and,... a chocolate covered quarter in my left palm.

Riding on a Terrain, Trying Not to Run Out of Track...

Much of the terrain of life is made of chance events over which we have no control. I have walked through valleys and I have stood on mountaintops. I have decided, in all this, to consider myself to be in a journey from happiness to happiness. So, when I encounter sadness along the way, I try to remember where my journey began and where it will end.