Denise and I are *not* fans of Coldstone. Aside from hearing the unenthusiastic droning of “Today Is Your Birthday” three or four times while in the store, we had a specific scary experience with Coldstone that left us … cold, I guess.

It was 90 degrees, we just finished eating at the Ghengis Grill with friends from out of town, and we got some Coldstone in a cup. We sat around and chatted in the swelter, nibbling on our Coldstones, since our friends were going to take off and drive directly home.

An *hour* of chatting later, I realize that there’s something wrong with my chocolatish goo. Aside from the fact that we must not have been enthusiastic about eating it if it was an hour later and we had some left, there was this point: it hadn’t really melted. Did I mention it was 90 degrees? For an hour?

We threw it away and swore off the scary non-ice-cream stuff.