Bee tugged on his shoes and socks, then threw on his tie and vest.
"Alright, I'm ready. Let's head on in." he said, entering the diner. The man was greeted by a gust of cool air and a ringing bell. A grizzled, grumpy old man greeted him with barely a grunt as he wiped a damp rag over the counter. In the corner, Chuck Berry radiated from a jukebox.
"Hello, sir. Do you sell ice cream?" Bee asked, smiling as he leaned an elbow onto the counter. The man gave him a glare one would only expect reserved for the worst of criminals before slapping down an oversized, colorful menu with great deals on daily specials.
"...Thanks."