I just Wanted Ice Cream

The world seems to hurt today, as in it feels like it’s hurting me. All I wanted was some ice cream. Who would have thought things would escalate to this. I was at home alone and I had just finished work. I am a part time online math tutor, at least until I can find a full time gig. This was a short work day so I decided to treat myself with a cool treat. There was a convenience store within walking distance managed by a Mr. Frankie, he instead on the mister. I have known him since I was a kid. He was a nice guy who had always looked out for me. The first thing you learn about Mr. Frankie is that he knows a lot more about the people that live here than they know about him. He always made an effort to keep me away from the trouble makers at his store. 

So it came as no surprise when I entered the store that before I could greet him, he gave me a look that told me all that I needed to know. There was someone here he did not want me to make eye contact with. Like I said, I have know Mr. Frankie since I was a kid, I have known him long enough to discern a look or two. 

Now don’t get it twisted I don’t live in that bad of a neighborhood, but we have a few bad seeds. I mean who doesn’t, but this bad seeds seem to have started inviting more and more bad seeds to stop by, so much so that people have started to take notice. 

So I kept an eye out for the person or people that Mr. Frankie was so worried about, all the while looking at the ice cream selection. I went with an ice cream drumstick my favorite. As I approach Mr. Frankie to make my purchase, that is when I notice the man of the hour had appeared just in front of me. Looked like he but a large bag of snakes. I did a quick once over, and as far as I could tell we were the only people in the store. This was probably the guy I thought. He looked a little over 6 feet, with a decent looking coat and shoes. But underneath the Cato was a horribly stained white shirt covered in brown and red marks, and his pants were turn up too. Not in a fashionable way, more of a barely kept up way. I also notice a red blemish on the otherwise new and expensive looking shoes. I hoped it was ketchup. He looked like a messy eater. 

After the man left Mr. Frankie held out a figure to hush me a moment longer as he checked his monitors. Probably to make sure the guy left. Once he was satisfied he changed back into his friendlier demeanor. 
“Frankie! You doing alright?” He asked. Did I forget to mention my name was Frankie, oh well. Now you know why he instead on being called Mister. 
“I’m doing fine Mr. Frankie, you?” I replied back.

”good, good, just stressed from all those hooligans showing up more often than I like.” 
“Yeah, I know what you mean I don’t even feel safe jogging on my own anymore.”

”Right! I swear I don’t know what this town is coming too.” He exclaimed with just a hint of sorrow in his voice. 
“Who was that guy anyway?” I finally asked 

“Just some punk, I saw him and a few of his friends get arrested a few weeks ago after beating some poor sap.”

Suddenly that ketchup theory was seeming more unlikely by the second.

As we kept chatting about this and that Mr. Frankie took my money had handed me my change. After a few more minutes and exchange of words I took my leave.

As I left I went ahead and began opening the rapper of my ice cream. I figured it already had started to melt and better to eat it on the way home then have to refrigerate it again. Just then I felt a sudden jolt wash over ,y face just before I could take a bite. It took me a moment to get back my sense before I realized what had happened. The punk as Mr. Frankie called him, was walking away while eating my ice cream. I had no idea if had decided to wait for me just to take my ice cream, or if he had decided to start eating some of his snacks just outside of the view of the cameras, as indicated by the rappers inching away from my face. Regardless he saw me and decided to take my ice cream. Just like a little kid, it was almost laughable if I wasn’t in pain. I was having trouble regulating my breathing, probably because I had the air knocked out of me when my back hit the concrete floor, I was lucky I didn’t injure my head. 

At least he wasn’t the bullying type, he just took what he wanted the only way he knew how and left, no mockery or kicking me while I was down, just take and leave. Regardless he left quite an impression. This maybe an understatement but I did not like this guy.

It took me a moment to recover. But sure enough I made it back to my legs. As I walked I did my best to nurse my now swallow cheek. What made this whole situation more challenging was the punk seemed to still be walking in the same direction as me. He had gain some distance from when he left to when I began walking again. Hopefully he wouldn’t turn around to notice me. Last thing I need now was to make eye contact. I did my best to follow pace as to avoid catching up with him.

Still this situation was troubling. I think must people would be angry in my position. Wouldn’t you? And now he was walking in front of me, taunting me without even knowing. It was infuriating. I just hope he walks past my house so doesn’t notice me pass by.

Unfortunately that was not the case. He turned left on to a path that led to some rich guy’s place. Defiantly not someone I would expect this punk to be affiliated with. Apparently he was so focused on his set path he didn’t notice me at all. I managed to avoid making eye contact, great, now I just need to keep walking home and put this whole thing behind me. This is what I wish I had done. But before I finished that thought I notice on the ground. My ice cream only half eaten and now stomped on. 

I proceeded to follow him. First he walked through a gate, I guess this rich guy did know. I quickly followed suit before the gate closed. Sure enough we came up to a house. 

Punk was about to knock, the guy was already waiting for him, and quickly opened the door. He was a well dressed man, but jittery for some reason.

”what took you so long!?” He questioned.

the punk just shrugged and showed him the bag as if that answered the question.

”Whatever, you got the stuff?” The Dressed man asked.

It became pretty clear what this was.

the punk pulled out a small bag of powder. And just as quickly the dressed man pulled out cash.

Just as they finished making their exchange, the dressed man look ped past the punks shoulder.

”Hey whose that?” He asked

just then the punk finally looked behind him. Eye contact.

He shouldn’t have done that. The rest of the even pt was a blur. I recalled a creak and splurge here and there but eventually I decided to stop trying and just ride it out. By the time I came to both the punk and now not so well dressed man were laying on the ground broken. As luck would have it, there were no witnesses thanks to the location, so I dragged both of them into the house, and then shut the door behind me as I left. I was pretty banged up it seemed, funny enough the swelling in my cheek had left, unfortunately it had been replaced with the swelling in my hands. 

All I wanted was some Ice cream. Seriously why did it have to get bad.