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came to the end, I stopped the waitress and said, "I would like some ice cream for dessert." As far as I am concerned, that is a rather reasonable request and quite in keeping with the environment I was in.
• "What kind of ice cream," she queried, "would you like?"
• When it comes to ice cream, ice cream is simply ice cream to me. If there is a flavor of ice cream I do not like, it has yet to be invented. I love ice cream. My favorite song is, "I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream." In my date book, there is no better ending to a wonderful meal than ice cream.
• I remember my grandfather's favorite ice cream was vanilla. He would not eat any other ice cream; he thought they were polluting it with colors. To him an ice cream sundae was as close to blaspheme as he ever would get. "Why ruin," he objected, "the ice cream with all that slop?" He wanted nothing coming between him and the purest experience of ice cream he could get.

• Me, I love ice cream regardless of the flavor or color or "slop."
• I looked at the waitress and simply said, "I don't care what flavor you bring me. Surprise me. As long as it isn't broccoli." That was supposed to be a joke. Ha ha ha.
• As the waitress left our table, we resumed our conversation and shortly she returned with the ice cream.
• Upon her arrival, I looked at her and