I pass your downtown Durham location, with its sign promising delicious popsicular refreshment, every time I ride my bike home. And every time, the sign is lying. Will I—and the denizens of our fledgling nouveau-downtown—have the delight of enjoying a creamy lime locopop? No. An elderberry lavender? No. A Mexican chocolate? Alas, no.
My plaint is a shared one: its most recent manifestation comes in a comment on Bull City Rising. And although it is better to have company in sadness, I find that the extent of my dismay can only be expressed in musical form:
Why, Locopops, why?
How many Cherry Hibiscus or Jasmine Green Tea
Would I have to buy
To cause you to open your dulcet downtown doors?
Twos? Threes? Three and a doggy pop? Fours?
With affection, your
Cyclist.
Tags: biking, commuting, durham, incentives, letters, locopops, orange, popsicles, sadness
