Fourteen of us trooped to Coco Gelato to throw a going-away party for everybody’s favorite German exchange student.
When I ordered a brownie milkshake, I expected a milkshake with a bit of brownie in it, or possibly with some brownie crumbs on top. Instead, what I got was a milkshake with a slab of brownie across the mouth of the jar, riding on a trencher heaped with brownie chunks, whipped cream and nuts.
I passed it up the table and back down. Luckily the other fourteen people at the party saved me from myself. What are friends for?
