While enjoying my cup of chocolate chip on the porch outside Wellfleet’s Gelato Joy, I watched a woman approach the counter. She scanned the list of flavors, then turned to the scooper.
“What flavor ice cream is the roasted almond?” she asked. I tried to imagine her motive for the question. Did she suspect trickery? Did she hope for a revelation? Or did she crave the comfort of asking a question you already know the answer to?
I didn’t hear the server’s response. It was probably something along the lines of “roasted almond.” Would I have answered her question with a question? Perhaps: “Who’s buried in Grant’s Tomb?” Or, to encourage her curiosity: “How should I know?”
