You And Your Folks, Me And My Folks

I was in funky little ice cream parlor staffed by an old school high school basketball team (a la The White Shadow), and owned by the X-Men crew. The walls were covered in framed tags and Funkadelic was blasting on the stereo at an insane volume. I debated getting some ice-cream for a while with an unknown friend and finally settled on a small cup of coffee-mocha. As I left I realized they had given me what seemed like a gallon's worth of the stuff, and it kept changing colors. When I finally scooped out a bite, it had no flavor; utterly without taste and kind of like eating thick air. I took the tub to the beach, sat in the rain, and began planning my trip to Algeria.