A memory of Jamaica

When I was 7, my father and I took a trip to Jamaica. 
We were there to visit my cousins, Aunt and Uncle.

It was beautiful.
Even at 7, I could recognize how beautiful it was.
I didn't want to leave.

Just about every day, my father and I would go down to the beach, Doctor's Cave in Montego Bay.

White sand, electric blue water.

Beautiful

There was a refreshment stand there.
They sold ice creams and lemonade and other things.
I can still taste the tartness of that lemonade. 

One day, I went up to the refreshment stand and asked for ice cream or lemonade.
 Not sure, really what it was anymore now.
Anyhow,
I asked the girl behind the counter for the treat in question.

And

She said, No

I started to cry my little 7-year old eyes out.
Wailing, bawling.
LOUDLY
At that point,
I really didn’t care what kind of scene I was making.

I started crying and turned around and started to walk back down the beach.

Into the Caribbean, crying the entire way.

Afterward, my father collected me out of the water.

The girl apologized to me and said she was just joking

This incident haunts me to this day.
I think about it often.

It has taken on more relevance than ever before lately.