Lakhsa Learns to Cry

The following is part of a dream I had the night of Wednesday, January 24th. I go to the ice cream parlor near the beach with Sam, my friend from middle school (see the post entitled "bleach"), and his dad and brother. Sam has been depressed. When we walk up to the ice cream parlor he orders first and asks, “can I have a Lakhsa learns to cry?” The ice cream parlor attendants say, “what’s that,” and Sam goes on to describe a soft-serve swirl molded into the shape of a face with the mouth open, and with hot fudge poured into the mouth and eyes so that it melts the ice cream and drips down as if the face is crying. The ice cream people are on the verge of crying themselves from the sheer beauty of this conceptual ice cream is and they say of course you can have it we will make it for you. Then I am about to order and I want the same thing because it sounds good but before I get to say so Sam goes “everyone else will just have a big stick of vanilla with a tiny cone. They can’t handle too much flavor.” So we all are given ice creams that we have to hold by the cream since the cone is only a half-inch tall and sitting on the very top like a little hat. I am quite upset by this, and my hand is covered in vanilla ice cream.