I’m the 17-year-old who was, admittedly, messing with my little brother in an ice-cream shop. You’re the thirtysomething “jerk” who decided to teach me a lesson by returning the favor and pushing me on your walk out, causing me to drop my ice cream on the floor. I admit, I did deserve you staring me down and saying, “Don’t be a jerk.” The saddest part is that when you left in a hurry after knocking it down, I was the bigger, more mature man, and all I could come up with was a “Thank you, sir.” Thank you, sir, indeed for teaching my 11-year-old brother how to deal with strangers when they make a temporary lapse in judgement. Also, I wanted to pump my fist at you or flip you off (typical angry teenager stuff), but my mother was in the car right next to you when you fled from a 17-year-old boy. Thank you to the workers who offered me another cone after that embarrassing scene for all of us. I’m sorry you had to see that.
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