The floor of the ice cream parlor bothered me. It was black-and-white checkerboard tile, bigger than supermarket checkerboard. If I looked only at a white
square, I would be all right, but it was hard to ignore the black squares that surrounded the white ones. The contrast got under my skin. I always felt itchy
in the ice cream parlor. The floor meant Yes, No, This, That, Up, Down, Day, Night -- all the indecisions and opposites that were bad enough in life without
having them spelled out for you on the floor.