(long version)
Empty Chocolate Counter
Janet Kuypers
5/21/15
So when I was in high school,
my first job was at the Plush Horse ice cream parlour —
now, it’s been around for years in the same historic building
with the same classic ice cream recipes...
And the added bonus
was that it was five blocks away from my house.
I used to save what change I could when I was little
and I’d ride my bike to the Plush Horse ice cream parlour
to get a scoop of their chocolate chocolate chip ice cream...
Once I got a job there,
I discovered they were still old-fashioned there —
only males were hired to scoop ice cream.
(You see, that’s because us girls aren’t strong enough
to wield an ice cream scooper for all those customers.)
But the ice cream parlour was under new management —
the brother of the owner of Dove chocolates
took it over, and I was hired
to work for their brand-new candy counter.
So now, unlike years past,
this ice cream parlour was no longer seasonal,
and I got to sell chocolates all winter long.
So, for the first time,
the historic Plush Horse
was selling chocolates
at their ice cream parlour
that was never open
in the dead of winter.
So, it’s fair to say
that in the winter
it wasn’t very busy.
So, I always had shifts
on dark winter nights,
selling chocolates to no one
along side the designated male
ice cream scooper.
And without customers
we’d screw around
or do our homework,
or listen to music
or read a book.
Now, I couldn’t get away
with eating the individual chocolates for sale there,
they would keep track of their inventory,
but when it came to the ice cream,
they made it in the back room,
and that was harder to keep track of.
So, there’d be too many nights
where I’d get to make myself
a twenty-for ounce chocolate chocolate chip shake
(with added fudge, of course).
But one night,
it was probably on a Tuesday night in February,
I was sitting in a low chair behind my counter,
I had a paperback book in my left hand,
and my precious chocolate chocolate chip shake
(with added fudge, of course)
in my right hand.
I was leaning back with my shake in my hand
and before I got a chance to open my book
the side door opened, right in front of my counter.
I was expecting a customer
coming in for ice cream
at the other side of the store —
but I saw the owner,
the brother of mister Dove chocolates,
the brother of mister Dove Bar himself,
I saw the owner pushing open the door.
My brain went into instant panic mode.
So in one sweeping gesture
I stashed my book and my shake under the counter
and stood at attention,
hiding the chair behind my wide skirt.
The store was empty,
but like a good soldier I asked,
“Hello sir, how are you?”
(wondering if he would scream
that I wasn’t standing at attention
in the dead of winter
when there were no customers in the store),
and he just grumbled
(probably because he’s such a busy businessman),
he said that he was fine
while he walked to the back office.
Whew.
Just move the chair
and the chocolate chocolate chip shake
(with added fudge, of course) out of sight...
Another day at work with the boss,
when deliveries were dropped off,
I picked up a larger box to bring to the back
and the owner protested.
“Wait, those packages are heavy —
you couldn’t carry that.”
And I laughed, explaining that we carried
fifty pound salt blocks for our water softener,
that I’m fine.
I think maybe him seeing
that women can stand up for themselves
made it okay, in the heat of summer
when the lines are out the door for ice cream,
for me to leave the empty chocolate counter
and be the first girl there
to ever scoop ice cream with the big boys.
#
I always liked that chocolate chocolate chip shake
(with added fudge, of course),
and now I go back every few years
to try a scoop of chocolate chocolate chip ice cream.
The thing that made it so great
was that it also included small molasses chunks,
so there were extremely tiny candy treats
in almost every lick.
The last time or two
I’ve been to the Plush Horse ice cream parlour,
there were next to no molasses pieces in it.
I know there’s a new owner again,
and I am afraid that cutting corners
means the classic recipes are forever lost.
So I’m afraid that now
I have one less place
to satiate my sweet tooth
and get my chocolate fix again.
|