june 10, 2017 | 12:19am, 2m | scoop

this time of year, summer, i tend to think that everyone i know has embarked on something far more interesting than me. i had a good summer last year though. today i rushed out of school for an ice cream. i finally got the strawberry one-scoop cone with about a minute to travel 4 blocks back for my student. on the way, i guess i gripped the cone so tightly that it shattered in my hand. the ice cream exploded onto my beard and across my black shirt, and i literally juggled the scoop itself in midair before catching it with my left paw. faced with a decision—should i keep eating it or not?—i began gnawing at the thing as i walked, dipping my face into my hand for bite after bite. even for the east village, this attracted stares, but at least i felt anonymous. then i heard a woman’s voice behind me, calling my name. “adam! adam!” it came from the mother of a new student. “hello!” she also wanted me to meet her friend. so there i stood, next to veselka, late to teach, introducing myself to a new student’s mother’s friend with a scoop of strawberry ice cream melting in my hand. “how are you?” the mother asked.