I know I've been a bit useless on here lately but it's not because I don't care. I assure you that you're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing before I go to sleep; but you must understand that summer is here and between life in the sunshine and the general exhaustion from life in the sunshine it's been difficult engaging the third of my brain dedicated to writing. The heat and humidity also seem to be affecting New Yorkers' brains too. Two events lead me to this conclusion. Last Sunday I sat in a bar and watched a less than sober patron thrown from the premises, as he landed in the street he promptly righted himself and proceeded to hurl his body at the locked door. It's a scene I've observed in London a few times, I think with the limited drinking hours there everyone tends to go a bit doo lally squeezing in their drinks before the 11pm cut-off. Here, though, it was a new experience and the second time I've seen the inebriated cross the line since the temperature ticked over 85degF. Not content with putting dents into his shoulder the chap took one look at the large plate glass window and, after a good little run up, placed his size 9 through it showering yours truly and friends with glass.
The second logic-less act came yesterday. There's a spot in the city famed for its burgers, fries, shakes, basically anything that can put a stop to your heart. It's a little shack in the middle of one of the parks and appropriately enough it's called "The Shake Shack". Now, when I say that this place is 'famed', I'm serious. We're talking regular queues from 11am to 11pm for its delights. Quite sensibly they've got a double queuing system in place. A "B-line" exists for orders of "Cones, Floats and Beverages"; for everything else you've got to stand in line with the other 63 people.
With the mercury touching 220 degrees and the humidity causing localised showers around your head it's a shake or nothing for me. Through the B-line I went.Next in the B-line!" the teller shouts. That'll be me then.
"A chocolate shake please."
"This line is only for cones, floats and beverages. You need to get in the other one."
"A milkshake is a beverage though."
"Next in B-line!"
And that was it, I was cast to one side. I had a good look around but sadly there was no glass window to put my size 8 1/2 through.
American Heritage Dictionary
milkshake n.
A beverage made of milk, flavoring, and ice cream, shaken or whipped until foamy. Also called shake; also called regionally cabinet, frappe, velvet.
--I'll take that back with me next time. I'm sure they'll be happy to debate this one out.
