What can YOU say in six sentences?
Goulash Pharmacy was an old school pharmacy, around which the world built up a bustling strip mall. Yes, it held all of the typical medications and knickknacks found at Walgreen's, but Goulash had a little diner in the back, complete with robin's egg blue counters and booths and vinyl stools to match, serving up pancakes, hash browns, burgers, grilled cheese, and the biggest shakes a girl could ever want.
My siblings and I sporadically received a pittance of allowance money; when we had collected the full two dollars and seventy-seven cents required, we carefully counted our pennies just to make sure, put on our bike helmets, and pedaled the mile and a half to Goulash to purchase those huge, delicious shakes that kept the diner in business. There was something so special about the counter, ordering all by myself, and eating that fantastic chocolate shake, first from the tall glass with the short, slender stem, then straight from the metal quart-sized cup.
But time kept moving forward, and soon a grocery store, Hallmark store, and a Walgreen's moved into the strip mall.
The shakes were no longer enough, and Goulash, along with its counter, closed.