After spending the day at the Los Angeles Natural History Museum we turned the ol' family truckster toward home, but we hadn't gone far before running smack into that famous LA traffic, which had reduced the 10 into a long serpentine parking lot- decidedly more stop than go. So we got off at the next exit, doubled back, and decided to spend the remainder of the afternoon at the beach, reasoning that if we had to be stuck somewhere the beach was decidedly better than the 10. Nothing feels more freeing than to clip along above the speed limit on a westbound freeway when everyone in the world is slowly rolling east. I could feel their hatred as I zipped past.
I stood on the beach in slacks and a collared shirt staring out over the vast Pacific. The kids played in the surf and dug in the sand. My toes wiggled in the warm sand. A short Mexican man dragged a cart filled with ice cream treats along the narrow strip of wet sand where his cart's wheels turned more easily. Occasionally he would work a bell mounted to the cart's handle to announce his presence. We made eye contact, and I pointed to his cart and said "Dollar fifty?"
He shook his head and said "Two."
"Nah, dollar-fifty."
"Okay, dollar-fifty."
So while I waited for the traffic to thin out I ate an ice cream bar next to the ocean and thought of those poor suckers slowly creeping east.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
wait a minute. You can haggle with the ice cream man???!!! You just blew my mind, Josh Tate! Of course, my favorite ice cream bar is only one dollar here in Napa, and I wouldn't feel right about trying to get that lower. But it's good to know that if in the future some other man selling his frozen yummies tries to charge me more, I can attempt to negotiate. Once again, you have changed my life. Well done.
Post a Comment