Lemon Sorbet on a Bed of Ice

My dress shirt clung to my back sweat as I neared home on a city sidewalk. My headphones were blasting as I passed my favorite cocktail bar, one where they do everything right.

A nice European (by that I simply mean he was well dressed and not working) was sitting at one of the small tables outside, though he didn’t have a drink. My passing glance turned into an ogle as I saw what lay in front of him.

A small silver bowl, holding a miniature mountain of crushed ice, atop it sitting a chilled lemon, sliced open, overflowing with decadent frozen yellow slush. I took off my headphones.

“What is that?”

“Oh, it’s a sorbet.”

“With booze?”

“No, that’s coming.”