It’s hot today – almost ninety degrees and humid. As I made my way down the one bad crime block (28th St. and 5th Ave.) that I pass through on my way home from work, I thought that this might be the last real summery day in the city.

And as I picked my way through peddlers and suspicious loiterers, A Mister Softee ice cream pulled up at the curb. I watched as the drug dealers and knock-off sneaker hustlers tucked their illegal wares under their sketchy unmarked vans and lined up for ice cream cones, cookie sandwiches, and rocket pops. Man, did it make me smile. I’ll tell you this: no matter how street tough you look, no one can appear threatening while working on a lemonade freeze bar.

It also makes you wonder – do they refer to Mr. Softee as their ice cream dealer?