Boulevard Ice Cream is the best ice cream place in Brookline. Sure, one could argue that it’s because it’s the only ice cream place, but if, say, a Dairy Queen should pop up down the street, I’d still patronize the good old Boulevard Ice cream shop with the congenial old man behind the counter.
The ice cream shop is close enough to my house to walk to, which always makes me feel less guilty as I’m fellating icy orbs of fat and calories, preferably in chocolate varieties.
I think it might be cheap too but I have no concept of dollar values.
It’s the type of place where the owner will still stuff a fat cone in your hand even if your pockets are penniless. OK, I have no evidence that this is true, but the owner seems like the type of guy who would rather see a runaway teen fill up on cream and sugar instead of robbing a liquor store for some Old Crow. And perhaps he’s gullible enough to buy into empty promises that Mother will stop by tomorrow with the cash.
While the shop’s facade might be in dire need for a signage update, how could you possibly resist the threat of a giant ice cream, smacking its lips hungrily as it sees you walking past, as if it’s sizing you up for this year’s summer pig roast. I know when I see enormous predatory cartoon foods, I want to eat them. Fast and hard, with lots of dripping saliva and projectile crumbs.
It’s conveniently located next to an air brush shop, so you can swing by after you inhale your cone and have them whip up a commemorative t-shirt.
When Christina and I were being chased by the patrons of Gordon’s Lounge in December, we considered for a split second taking refuge there in the Boulevard Ice Cream shop, which was still open at eight o’clock on a Sunday night, but as Christina pointed out, the window front was too big and we’d be sitting ducks. Plus, we didn’t have any money.
But as we ran past, I noticed the owner, sitting at a corner table and reading the paper, and I bet he’d have given two complimentary cones to two girls in distress.