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Drawing myself up into my most ferocious looking six feet three inches tall, I looked down on him and said, “You Advertise Hand Dipped Diesel Beer Ice Cream. I stopped my trip to Tallahassee to have a double scoop of the stuff and you don’t have any? What would you do if I sued this place for false advertising?” Just about this time two State Police cars rolled into the parking and armed Policemen raced into the store with their guns drawn. The man behind the counter was pointing at me and yelling about what a crazy man I was. The four police men surrounded me and menaced me with their guns and. One of them, looking at me with evil squinted eyes, spoke up, “Okay Mister, what’s going on here?” I told my story again, “I was on my way to Tallahassee and saw their sign advertising Hand Dipped Diesel Beer Ice Cream Cones. I stopped and came in to buy some.” Holding up the money in my hand I went on, “This man wouldn’t sell me any.” The four policemen looked at each other in wonderment. The man with the squinty eyes turned to the man behind the counter and asked, “This man says he asked to buy a Diesel Beer Ice Cream Cone and you wouldn’t sell him any. Is this true?” The man behind the counter looked even more nervous as the armed policemen now made him the center of their attention. He stammered, “But, but, we don’t have any Diesel Beer Ice Cream.” Now people from the surrounding area, seeing the police cars and the lights, began to gather around the store. One of them asked me what was going on. I told him, “The man behind the counter wouldn’t sell me a Hand Dipped Diesel Beer Ice Cream Cone.” My words spread like wildfire through the gathering crowd. One of the policemen now put his gun away and looking in my direction he said, “You know, I’ve never tried this Diesel Beer Ice Cream either and I see it advertised all over the place. This has been a trying day; it’s hot and I think I want a Diesel Beer Ice Cream Cone also.” The other three policemen nodded in agreement and stood side by side at the counter with me. Now the man at the counter was truly nervous. He said quickly, “Look we have all these other flavors, I’ll GIVE you whatever flavor Ice Cream Cones you want - free of charge!” The policemen now looked at each other with questioning eyes. One of them said, “This Diesel Beer Ice Cream must be some hot stuff if he’s not willing to sell us any. I wonder who he’s saving it for?” One by one, the people in the gathering crowd moved forward and demanded Diesel Beer Ice Cream also. Time was dragging on and the time I had left to get to my appointment was dwindling. I moved out of the little store as the demand for Diesel Beer Ice Cream grew louder and louder. The loud voices were now punctuated by the sound of breaking glass and screams of pain. Someone ran out of the store, grabbed a length of rope from his truck, and raced back inside. A woman came out, grabbed a pillow, and ran back into the store screaming something about Diesel Beer Ice Cream. Another man ran out and returned with a big bucket of tar. If I’d waited any longer I would have been late for my appointment. I’ll try again on my way home. I’m sure I’ll find another store advertising Diesel Beer Ice Cream on the way back. One of these places is bound to have some. (to be continued) AUTHOR: Robert P. Herbst  TAGS: Literary Work story Home Family time BOOKMARK: Digg it | Add to Del.ICIO | Add to FARK ACTIONS: Comment Save Print Register free acount  |
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