Sunil hated frozen yoghurt. The cutesy contraction. Fro-yo. The frosted coils, swirling and melding. Taffeta pink and java brown, with overpriced toppings. The too-bright fluorescent lights, like he was about to get a prostate exam. The staff packed the order for Kirsten (2km away), swirls and toppings pumped out in a production line. They wore lab coats and goggles, like they were handling hazardous waste. Matcha Madness, topped with coconut shavings. Seventy-eight dollars and forty cents.
