I was reminded tonight of a bad night I had the first year I was married. I don’t even know exactly what had me so down. It was probably an accumulation of things, but I do remember part of it was that Brett and I had argued. I decided to go for a walk to clear my head. We lived on Capital Hill in Seattle and I walked up to Broadway and found myself at Baskin Robbins.
I dug through my pockets and found just enough change to get a single scoop of chocolate ice cream. I was still feeling a little blue as I walked out the door and down the sidewalk and took my first lick. When my tongue touched my ice-cream I felt like I was watching in slow motion as my perfectly round, 2.5 ounce scoop, rolled over the side and splattered on the dirty side walk.
I started crying.
I was twenty years old, I was newly married and had just had an argument with my husband, I hadn’t really made any friends yet, I was very far away from anyone in my family…and worst of all…I dropped my ice cream cone. I felt like a five year old.
When I worked at Baskin Robbins and a kid dropped their ice cream we gave them a new one. They probably would have given me one, but I was too embarrassed to go in and ask since I had tears streaming down my face and all.
So I slowly walked home and walked back into our apartment and burst into tears again. Poor Brett was very sorry and very apologetic.
Brett laughed as I relayed my story and he realized I was crying over my ice cream and not our argument. He led me out to the car and we drove up and he got me a new cone.