you should. . .go out for frozen custard

It felt like it was forty degrees out, maybe less, so when Gilberte and Miranda asked you to stand outside the frozen custard stand licking a glorified chink of ice, you initially declined. Then, you decided it would be preferable to work, so you went along.
You ordered a vanilla cone. You always do. You like how the simplicity of the vanilla bean’s flavor allows you to concentrate on the gentle egg tast of custard and the sweet cream texture. On hot days, you find this all quite refreshing. Today, it is agonizing. You wish that you had worn a jacket, hat, gloves, a scarf, and you wait for Gilberte and Miranda to finish their unnecessarily complex orders as you take enormous bites out of your custard pile.

You feel conflicted. The big bites make your whole face cold, but smaller bites would make you cold for longer. You go big.

You’ve eaten your cone by the time the girls have paid. You clutch your head and shiver as you all walk back to the office. Good decision, champ.