😅It was one of those afternoons where the sun was doing too much. The kind of heat that makes even your shadow tired. I walked into a small shop, already sweating like I’d run a marathon I never signed up for, and decided only one thing could save me: ice cream.
I stood in front of the freezer, staring like it was a holy shrine. Chocolate? Vanilla? Strawberry pretending to be healthy? I took my time, because choosing the wrong flavor on a hot day feels like a personal failure.
Finally, I picked one and marched to the counter like a champion.
The shop was quiet. Too quiet. The cashier, a very serious man with zero sense of humor in his eyes, scanned my ice cream and said,
“That will be five.”
I nodded, reached into my pocket… and froze.
No wallet.
I checked again. Different pocket. Same disappointment.
I laughed awkwardly.
“Ah… small problem.”
He raised an eyebrow. The kind of eyebrow that says I have seen nonsense before and I am tired.
“I think I left my money at home,” I said, smiling like that would fix it.
Silence.
Behind me, a queue had magically formed. People who hadn’t existed two seconds ago were now very invested in my downfall.
One woman sighed loudly. A man checked his watch like I was stealing years off his life.
My brain started overheating.
I panicked.
“I’ll just put it back,” I said, reaching for the ice cream.
Too late.
The ice cream had already started melting. A slow, dramatic drip ran down my hand, hit the floor, and betrayed me.
The cashier stared at the mess.
“So… you touched it.”
“Yes,” I said softly, like a criminal confessing.
More silence.
Then he said the words that ended me:
“You have to pay for it.”
I laughed again. Nervously. Desperately.
“That’s the funny part… I can’t.”
The room felt hotter. The ice cream was now soup. My dignity was also melting.
Finally, the woman behind me stepped forward.
“Just let me pay for it,” she said.
Relief flooded my body.
I turned to thank her—deeply, emotionally, maybe even spiritually—and that’s when I slipped.
Right on the melted ice cream.
I didn’t fall all the way. I did that awkward half-fall, half-dance that makes everyone stare while pretending not to. My arms flailed. My soul left my body briefly.
The shop exploded with laughter.
The cashier smiled for the first time since birth.
The woman paid. I apologized. I thanked everyone like I’d just won an award. I walked out holding my ice cream, my pride permanently damaged.
Outside, I sat down, took one bite…
And it was the wrong flavor.
Still ate it though. Respectfully.