Dangerous Compassions

purple penguin

We have a friend who has three kids.  (We are also slightly friends with his kids.)  Our friend told us they were all going to Purple Penguin.  This happened long ago.

“Wow, what’s Purple Penguin?” I asked.

“It’s a food truck, snow cone place,” our friend said.  “It’s just a silly thing the kids like.”

dreamy interlude

I thought of snow cones, how when I was little and we went to the beach, my mom would give me money so I could get a snow cone, from the person with the little cart.  Always I got half cherry, half banana, as artificial banana flavor is my favorite candy / snow cone flavor.

Ah, bliss.  To eat the snow cone with the white plastic spoon.  At the beach, by the swings, for some moments.

back to the story

“I wanna go to Purple Penguin!” I exclaimed.

“You do?  Okay!” our friend replied, surprised.

Thereby, we came to visit a Purple Penguin to procure snow cones with our friend and kids.

Oh wait, I forgot to tell you the best part.  After our friend told us about the place, but before we went, I had a dream that we went to Purple Penguin.  It was the kind of dream I might wake up laughing from.

In my dream, Purple Penguin was a big intense colorful place.  Kind of like Willy Wonka’s candy forest, in the 1971 movie Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, but more indoors, dense, and frenetic.  It was magical, and there was an ape?  Not a real ape, but a purple depicted ape.



Then we went, and ate our snow cones together in a parking lot.  We were by a dumpster in a little dumpster enclosure with a squeaky, open gate.

Wow, yes.  Delicious.  They were better than my childhood snow cones.  The flavor was stronger; Purple Penguin must use more syrup.

Then summer left.  Purple Penguin is only for warmer months.  I was like–what?  I didn’t understand that.  Like outdoor swimming pools, closed much of the year.

But recently, we went again, with those friends, to a different Purple Penguin this time in Henderson.  There’s a brick and mortar store, and little tables outside on the sidewalk.  It was fun to see the kids again, and re-meet the youngest, who had been a baby, and is now a legit kid.


Then lately I’ve wanted more Purple Penguin, craving it.  I like mine with some vanilla ice cream inside.  The combination is heavenly.  But Purple Penguins are on the far side of town, and their hours are not super aligned with my awake hours.

So I had this thought I could buy vanilla ice cream, and then Ming could get me a slushie from some place, and I could pretend the slushie was snow cone-age.

First we tried Sonic, where Ming always like to get cherry limeade slushies.  I asked him to see if they had banana slushies there, and if not, cherry.  To get the smallest size, and I would try my experiment.

They had no banana, but the cherry worked ok.  Not quite the same.



Then Ming tried 7-11 for me, to see if they had banana slurpees, and if not then cherry would be ok.

The shiny new 7-11 near our home, where Ming gets petrol sometimes–Ming said they have many slurpee machines, and he was sure they would have banana.

“This is not one of those little two-slot machines.  These are large slurpee machines, with many flavors,” he said.

“Yeah!”  I said.  “Sounds like you have a master’s degree in slurpees!”  I marveled.

But they had no banana, but he got me cherry.  Slurpees have that sparkly carbonated feel.  It was not quite the same either, but good try.


We just need to make the trek to Purple Penguin sometime.  But we have vanilla ice cream, and I want to learn how to make horchata shakes.  So maybe I can use the ice cream for the shakes.  The end.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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