Girls within Boys Parlour

I morti, i violini e le onde sinusoidali!

I’ve been the owner of this Ice Cream Parlour called “Girls within Boys Ice Cream” for over 3 decades now. We’ve changed the flavors over time.

I’ve always been the sole owner of the parlour. We do not have any other employees in the Shop to run any kind of errands. I do the accounting, management, serving, and at the end of the day, also the cleaning. To talk about that, the shop only serves from 7 PM to 1 AM. Yes, I do have the permit to run the shop after midnight. A lot of people have asked me about the weird timings. I don’t know, I just know woke up one day had the word “Girls within Boys” in my mind, opened the shop, and also decided that I’ll only serve for that duration.

I’ve always wanted to observe people a lot. Not surreptitiously, but just observe people and see how they move their hands, how they walk, what style they talk in, check out their facial piercings, tattoos, hairstyles, and just some simple things that are a part of their personality. I’ve always been very keen and interested in doing this. I get to do that late at night. I swear to the holy grail, I do not have any bad intentions other than just observing people.

Throughout the years, I’ve not maintained any customers. Because Girls within Boys has a policy that you cannot spend time at the Parlour for more than 50 iterations in your whole lifetime. I knew my ice cream quality was always on top, and I’ll soon get crowded for it. So, I implemented this policy to serve my own greed and foolishness. The Parlour is more of an experience than just the ice cream. I’ve kept a mouth organ, a guitar, a clapbox, and some other instruments; if someone wants to play, you know. That is also because I like listening to music, and maybe someday, I will also get to hear some different music and feel amazed by it. I also spin vinyls at the shop if no one is playing. The collection is pretty limited, with some jazz, classical (Indian and Western). And also, a bit of rock, mostly albums like “God Shuffled His Feet” by Crash Test Dummies, “Blood Sugar Sex Magik” by Red Hot Chili Peppers, and “Talking Book” by Stevie Wonder. Whoever enters has to bear my biases because they can’t bring their own record, nor can they bring their own book. The customers listen to what I’m playing and read what I’ve given as an option to them.

I am writing this essay to share about a Girl who has been visiting the Parlour quite often these days.

She’s visited today, too. So, I thought I’d have a chat with her. I seldom went to her and said, “Hi Miss, you surely like the Lemon Meringue Ice cream a lot, but I hope you know about Girls within Boys limited policy, and you surely might not want to exhaust it faster”.

I was thrown down the well with humiliation when I noticed she had plugged in to her iPod. She unplugged and said, “Yes ? Is there anything you want to talk about?”. I felt so frustrated, but I once again put on a smile and said, “Yes, I just wanted to say that it seems you’re loving the Lemon Meringue Brownie Walnut Ice cream a lot these days. But, I hope you know about the Parlour’s policy of limited visits”. And she said, “Yes, I do know about it and I don’t care”. I said, “Well, as you wish, miss! Is there anything else you need?”. She said, “No”.

I started walking towards my seat and she exclaimed, “Excuse me, I’d like to have a Brownie and Walnut, single scoop in a cup,” and I replied, “Sure, coming right up!”.

I, for some reason, like this girl, and I want to know what songs she is listening to. I am letting her play her own songs today. I think it should be fine since it’s the last hour, and I’m sure no one is going to come. I’ll let this one break the rules.

I scooped out her ice cream and put it in the cup. I changed my mind and added another scoop into it with a waffy stick. Served it to her, she was surprised to see 2 scoops. I said, “On the house, please enjoy”.

There are times when she comes alone and times when she is with a friend or a group of 4. I’ve been observing her a couple of times, and she seems like a different person when she is alone versus when she is with someone. I like how the sine waves travel.

She had her iPod on the desk and I sneaked to see the album cover and my oh my ice cream of heaven, she was listening to “Daughter” by Pearl Jam. I absolutely love the song. I said, “That’s a really great choice for a song!”. She continued scooping on and on. Daughter is a song that is a bit more on the emotional side; it’s a song about a girl being neglected emotionally by her mother. The song lyrics clearly say it, so that’s my interpretation of the song.

I always think about how the sine waves of mood are in people with Bipolar disorder. All of a sudden, she spoke, “The ice cream is really good, thank you”. I patted her head and replied, “I know, right!”.

I got back to my seat. I felt lost because I was thinking about something and her reply, and out of the whim, I remembered what I was thinking about. So, to me, these sine waves of mood are a bit wonderful. I like how the brain functions on Drugs. I wish I could take drugs and get into that subconscious state of mind and write something so beautiful that the world will know me for it.

Just when I was in a whirlpool of thinking, I noticed her doing something. She plugged in her earphones, took her Converse cross-body bag on her lap, and took out a book from it. I could barely see it, but it was titled “Bite” by K.S. Merbeth. I had never heard of that book in my life ever. Now, I really wanted to talk with this girl.

I walked to her and said, “Hey, I’ve never seen or even heard about this book”. She said, “That is why I bought it. Not a lot of people know about this Sci-fi book”. And, to be honest, she really got my soul humiliated there.

I really wanted to tell my metaphors to this girl and listen to hers. I asked, “Do you mind if I ask about your age and what you do ?”. She said, “Not really, I’m 21 years old and I work as a graffiti artist”.

She said, “Not like I make a lot of money either, I barely get any projects and people are not very interested in art these days”. I said, “That is so true, the juice is becoming stale and the insects are dying”.

I started writing, “I love bipolarity. It’s like you are practicing violin with a deep affection for the instrument, swinging the bow with beauty in your heart, and a grimace in your mind. And, your evil mother comes rushing towards you. Snatches the violin from your control and cuts off all the strings from it. The girl shouts at her mother, saying, “You daughter of a filthy Bitch, what the fuck you think you’re even doing, piece of rotten cow dung”. Yes, that is what the sine waves of bipolarity are. Strings guide you through the curvatures of feelings, something breaks the flow, and you’re ruined till you fix the strings. The guidance really matters”.

Just when I was writing the above, I noticed someone looking at me surreptitiously; obviously, it was the girl. I looked at her to check if she needed anything. Just as I saw her, she looked away from the shop entrance. Got up from her seat and sat near the window. She seemed to be having a great time with Music and her mind. I love it when people invest some time in their minds. This girl seems to be a gifted one for some reason. I noticed some actions on the window wall. She pointed her finger at the window as if she were drawing in the air. I tried to observe a lot more. She drew an X-Axis and a Y, then, in the center, a reference line. She then changed her hand. I swear, the left hand looked way more beautiful. It had sharp, red painted nails with a dinosaur’s wing tattooed on her upper palm. I was amazed. She swiped her finger to draw a sine wave. I realized someone is thinking similar things. I smiled within myself.

Indeed, someone is really thinking the same. She drew the sine wave with great difference. One straight to the top of X-Axis, suddenly dropping to the rock bottom and continuing so. The drops were so sudden, I couldn’t help but connect that with what I had written.

After she was done, she stopped and pressed her nail so hard against the window that she broke the longer one. I was surprised to see her doing that. She looked at me, smiled at me. It genuinely made me feel uncomfortable. She proceeded to lick the blood that was running through her finger. She exclaimed, “I don’t know what’s happening, but it sounds like a struggle”.

I said, “Yes, because disgust and gratitude are asking for control of your mind”.