From the time I was an adolescent, TCBY had always been my favorite ice cream shop. Whenever I received a commendable grade on a test or scored the championship goal in soccer, my day would end the same way; with a sundae from the infamous TCBY. You may think you’ve heard of TCBY before, the frozen yogurt shop. But TCBY was not always a frozen yogurt shop. It used to be a good old, delicious, ice cream parlor. In fact, my favorite until some competitors moved into town.

TCBY was always very inviting. The large, red, glowing, fluorescent letters never failed to grasp my attention. I would see the sign and immediately I was overjoyed. My mouth would begin to salivate as I thought of my favorite ice cream; the Arthur sundae. The sundae was inspired by the popular children’s show “Arthur”. Starring Arthur, the aardvark whom demonstrated how kids could deal with childhood issues and challenges in everyday life like homework, bullies and school. This particular sundae was unique in design and even came with its own complimentary cup! The flavor and smell really just attacked your senses with delight.

Each TCBY trip was very much like the one before. After getting out of the car, I’d hike up the steep inclined sidewalk which, to my little legs, seemed to be elevated much higher than the road. It was worth the climb. Upon reaching the summit, I was greeted by the familiar and weirdly comforting flashing blue and red LED lights that shot from the neon “open” sign. In comparison to the large door, I was very short so my dad would open it for me. The minute the door was cracked open a smidge the sweet aroma of cream and sugar escaped the room. Once the door was fully opened it was as if you were standing inside of a freezer. The air was cold yet the smell was inviting.

Each time I would sprint towards the register and the same words escaped my lips, “Can I please have the Arthur Sundae, with extra whip cream!!” I’d watch this goddess, this purveyor of frozen delights and grantor of dreams, walk over and pick up the clear, plastic, fancy cup soon to be the home of my sundae. Scoop in her other hand, she’d begin scraping and digging the ice cream out from the container and into the plastic cup, MY plastic cup. The clear container was crucial the overall Arthur sundae experience as the ice cream itself was a menagerie of color. It was similar to that of a rainbow if a rainbow was made of unnatural fluorescent colors made to permanently stain everything it touched. Scooping of the colorful ice cream base now complete she would walk over to the whip cream canister and like a great blizzard completely covered the rainbow ice cream in a glorious cloud of white cream. The site of which was accompanied by that sound that compares only to that of a fire extinguisher being set off. She would add rainbow sprinkles and no sundae would be complete without a cherry to top it off.

My dad and I would sit down at our usual table that was against the wall. I set my ice cream down on the table and would examine it, it was always so pleasing to the eye. The ice cream was like an abstract painting, the colors intertwined through the looking-glass bowl. The colors always reminded me of playdough.  Having patiently waited long enough, I positioned my spoon in my hand and decided it was time to dig in. The spoon glided through the frozen treat so easily, as though it took no effort at all scooped up a mound of the object of my desire. The cold, flavorful ice cream contrasted with the super fluffy whipped cream and the added texture of the hard little jimmies met my tongue. I was instantly delighted and gratified. It had tasted just as it smelled: sweet, creamy, and like vanilla bean. It was so cold yet so pleasant amongst my taste buds. Sometimes the ice cream would accidentally come in contact with my front teeth making me cringe and shiver, sending chills down my spine. The more ice cream I consumed the more endorphins I felt circulate my body. My mood instantly and continuously improved from the first spoonful on. When I had finally completed my mission and as I scraped the very bottom of my plastic cup with my spoon, I felt an odd feeling of gratification and disappointment. Sliding my stuffed little body out of my chair, I would leave the carnage of the ice cream covered table, mound of wet and sticky rainbow colored napkins, my empty bowl and spoon for my dad to deal with and head to the bathroom to wash my hands, I would look at myself in the mirror and stick out my tongue to note its new and vastly improved purple-blue color the only remnants of the Arthur sundae.

I loved the Arthur sundae cups so much that each time I got a sundae I would take the plastic cup home and add it to my collection. As my dad walked out of the ice cream shop, the once sweet aroma of creamy deliciousness was no more and my mood was slightly altered. We hopped in the car and began to drive home. On the way I noticed something was going on up near food lion. There was an entire line of people that stood in front of a building that read ‘Jimmie Cone.’ People had very interesting ice cream cones in their hands, completely covered in jimmies. You couldn’t even tell what color the ice cream was. I felt bad but I wanted to see what all the commotion was about so we stopped at Jimmie cone to talk to some of the people eating ice cream. They were all raving about how fantastic the ice cream was at this new place I’m not sure whether I out grew the Arthur Sundae or perhaps my taste buds changed, but I began going to Jimmie Cone to celebrate my accomplishments and TCBY began to fade away from my life. It was no longer my favorite ice cream place of choice. One day feeling a little nostalgic, I returned to my once favored TCBY to buy another Arthur Sundae. When I arrived outside things looked different. The once comforting glow of the neon sign was gone and I realized TCBY had been replaced by a Subway! I felt a deep pang of sorrow and regret. Had I caused this?