Lemonade

Last Friday I stopped off for a drink after work. It’s just something I feel I must do – and I don’t even like lemonade. Whenever I see a kid sitting behind a card table in front of what I presume to be their house I pull over to see what’s on sale. Usually it’s lemonade, which I usually find intolerably sour.

Sometimes I have to go around a corner or turn around if I notice it as I am driving by. Last Friday it was pointed out to me by a helpful young lady holding a sign on a street corner. In the tradition of “Eat at Joe’s,” the sign read “Lemonade for Sale.” Not seeing any make-shift stand, I thought perhaps it was a small start-up with only an on-line presence.

“Where’s the lemonade?” I asked.

“Two blocks that way,” she said with a big smile.  Great front-line marketing: friendly, informative and helpful. This was easier than normal – right on my way with good directions.

I was lucky – they were also serving grape Kool-aid, my favorite of the artificial flavors; I can drink an entire pitcher myself on a summer Saturday. At some of your fancier sidewalk stands they will also have home-made cookies (for a nominal charge, of course).

This particular establishment was selling drinks by the cup – fifty cents a Styrofoam cup.

The sales group consisted of four girls (including the girl with half of a sandwich board); fifty cents leaves two pennies to sort out between the four of them, whereas one-dollar is divided into four evenly – so I left a 100% tip. I poured drinks at an establishment in St. Cloud during my college years, so it was simply a matter of professional courtesy to tip generously.

There was a man mowing the lawn during business hours, and when I approached the stand he stopped mowing.  As he was only partially hidden behind a tree, I was keenly aware of his presence. As I placed my order, I wondered why he stopped to observe. Was he listening to our transaction so he could offer the girls pointers on cross-selling and asking for referrals, was he security or perhaps just a protective father?

With no outside seating available I carried my cup to the truck. As I drove away I carefully sipped my grape Kool-aid so as to not spill it all over me. I figuratively rolled the windows down to let the late-afternoon air flow through the truck and blow the cares of the day off me. Tomorrow is the first day of summer, and I sense the carefree feeling of relaxation that can only come with summer.

It’s not only buying lemonade, driving with the windows open, it’s lying in bed falling asleep to the sound of the crickets;  parades with fire trucks; small town festivals and county fairs; swimming pools and backyard picnics; fishing off the dock and boat rides on the lake; biking and walking; camping and traveling. 

No secret, I can do without the bugs, the heat and humidity, but I think I can stand the summer, with or without sour lemonade.