Frootreet Ice Cream

Zampa Bazar is always loud, so inside Frootreet Ice Cream it feels a bit different. I get here early to check the stock and see what we need for the afternoon. The delivery truck usually blocks the road for a minute and people honk their horns like crazy. It’s a narrow shop with high ceilings. I put the new boxes in the back and move the old ones to the front. The light flickers sometimes if the fan is on the highest setting. We have some stools but most people just stand on the pavement outside. I’ve seen the same faces for years. Some people don’t even look at the menu anymore, they just point or say the same word every time they walk in. I try to keep the glass clean but fingerprints are everywhere by noon. The sun hits the front window around three o'clock and makes the place really bright. I usually sit on a plastic chair near the counter when it's slow. There’s a guy who sells tea next door and we swap sometimes. Ice cream for tea is a fair trade. The name on the sign is a bit faded from the rain last year. I don’t mind. People know where we are. It’s just a job, keeping things frozen and handing them out to people who are hot and tired from walking through the bazar. Sometimes the bins get too full before I can empty them.