when the Mr. Softee
Man,
died.
Carl, and his son took
over the job.
they were from
Lebanon, i think.
the son would short
us on the cones,
two meager
swirls and he was done.
we missed
Carl,
how he gave us ice cream
if we came
up short, a few nickels
shy of a quarter.
the new regime
was horrible.
treating us badly,
making us run to the corner.
he didn't last long.
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