Space-Time Ice-Creamium

Ruby JewelRecently, after some Lebonese dinner across town, my wife said, “There’s an ice cream place only two blocks away. Let’s go!”

I was already full. Case in point: She was toting a box of leftovers but I was not. Mine had been crammed down my gullet. This scenario would soon allow me to put my advanced decision-making skills on display.

We walked into the shop and it was what I like to describe as “Portland cute.” The place was constructed to look post-industrial. This means concrete walls, vaulted ceilings with lots of duct work, lighting fixtures that hang all the way down from the ceiling and, of course, the pièce de résistance of the Portland eatery scene: the fake garage door. Those things are ubiquitous around here, perhaps even on par with the fedora and other trendy chapeaux.

We walked up to the counter. Too far a way was a board that described the offerings. The writing was too small for me to read. Aside from a list of featured ice creams, no other information was available at the counter where it could have been visible.

Through a blur I made out the heading “Sundaes” and “$7.”

“I’ll take that first sundae on the list,” I said. It was something to do with coffee so I figured what the hell. Coffee in ice cream! I smell another trend.

This has got to be the jewel of my collection. I made out with my iPod after taking this shot. I call it "Ha ha ha!"

This has got to be the jewel of my collection. I made out with my iPod after taking this shot. I call it “Ha ha ha!”

Again, I was already full. Can’t allow that to slow down ordering, though. Gotta be decisive.

My wife, a foodie on steroids since moving to the big city, was sorely tempted by the chevre ice cream. For those not in the know, that’s ice cream made from milk that came out of a goat. Personally I’m holding out for meowvre, which is cheese made from the milk of a cat. Logic dictates that all animals must produce their own bold flavors. Instead, though, she played it trendy with a scoop of salted caramel and a scoop of black licorice.

Salt on ice cream could be a post on it’s own. Maybe I’ll get to that thorny issue on another day.

I sat down with my huge sundae and had a problem. I wasn’t hungry. That bowl represented a small localized disturbance located off my port bow. But I wasn’t about to let my $7 investment go to waste. I mentioned an “ice cream doggy bag” but no one took me seriously.

“That’s it,” I said, digging in for the long haul. “This thing is going down.” That’s guru style.

That’s when the space-time ice-creamium kicked in. It works like this:

At home, with the bowl balanced precariously on my belly, and enjoying the “loading, please wait” bar on Netflix, the ice cream seems to vaporize. It’s gone in the blink of an eye.

At the ice cream stand, though, time had slowed to a crawl. It was bite after bite, in tedious slow motion, landing with audible thuds in my chest. I could literally see the ice cream coming at my face hole. It was that slow! It turns out that when there is nothing to do but look around at the post-industrial design, flirt with eye contact with your mate and engage in actual conversation, that bowl of ice cream lasts a really, really long time.

When done, my belly was so taut we loaned it out to a drum circle for the night.

I’m now safely home in dry dock where the effects of last night will likely take several weeks to dissipate.

15 responses

  1. The best part about time eating ice cream at a fancy industrial warehouse inspired ice cream shop is the feeling of the ice cream lasting forever. And the high prices. You can’t beat the high prices and taking the whole family. Then watching your child (who knows better) drop their very expensive ice cream onto the shiny concrete floor. They never drop the cheap 49 cent McDonald’s ice cream, just the $5 single scoop after begging to upgrade to that special cone. I personally love to watch that scoop of ice cream falling in slow motion, my old fatherly hand unable to catch it….

    Great post!


    1. Dammit! I forgot the ice cream cone picture. Thanks for the reminder!

      You have stumbled onto an excellent truism. Be careful not to step in it!

      Did someone say ice cream cone??? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!


  2. The meowvre would be a nice touch, but I don’t think you’ve completed the Portland experience until you’ve eaten it while wearing a hemp beret.


    1. LOL! As a kid we used to punch each other in the arm when we saw a VW Beetle. Last night at dinner, sidewalk dining, we played a variant of the game. It’s called “Find The Fedora” or those squishy little French cap thingies. Trust me. There were plenty of ’em!

      Hemp beret! LOL! 🙂


      1. My wife and I did the punch thing for t-shirt and antique shops in Key West.
        Lasted about three blocks, then we were both too sore.


  3. When does something “trendy” become the exact opposite of trendy because so many motherfuckers are doing it?


  4. Portland sounds like a place I’d not enjoy very much as a semi-redneck, but your description of the facility is top notch. I can picture the sort of place easily. $7 sundaes better be really big!


    1. It’s actually a great city. We love it. But it doesn’t seem to have its share of fedora posers. Much like any place, I suppose. Vote me for mayor!

      The sundae was over the top. I am filled with regret (along with lots of ice cream).


  5. I’m sorry. You spent how much on ice cream?


    1. Seven clams. Now that I think about it, I want to die.


      1. I hope that sundae stayed all day. Just so you get your money’s worth.


  6. Ok, $7 for non-goat ice cream. How much would you guess a cat ice cream sundae would run?


    1. LOL! $7 per life. So $63. They are harder to milk.


  7. OMG, more goat stuff. I love it. How about goat ice cream mixed with green tea, you could call it “Goat Tea” ice cream, two trends in one. Possibly green tea is on its way out now, though, and probably even fromage de chèvre. Chat crème glacée au fromage is the next big thing, as you’ve so presciently noted. (See what google translate will do!) You should quit your job immediately and open an ice cream parlor. But no garage doors. So passé now.


    1. Bah! Can it be served with a fedora garnish?

      I took enough French to know that “fromage” is cheese. Google Translate did help me with your joke. And I agree completely! 🙂


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