“Oh, for the love of ducks and geese!” I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see his apron fly out the server window, quickly followed by the rest of his lanky body. His feet hit the ground, and he glanced at the maybe twelve-year-old kid who’d caught his apron and said seriously, “The ice cream gods have chosen you. The plastic spoons are in the first drawer and we’re fresh out of soft serve.”
