When your tongue touches the frozen white Nirvana on top of a Putz's cone, every moment of every joy of every summer of your life is condensed into one simple swipe. It's the sweetness, the creaminess, the cloud-like texture. I dare you to close your eyes, taste it, and not think of your first summer love, or getting invited to the new neighbor's pool on the second day of August, or visiting Rock City and swearing on a stack of MoonPie wrappers that you can see all seven states. Putz's coneys are also very popular. But it's the simplicity of vanilla on a cone that has made this place. When I-74 was being built, the expressway would have landed three feet from Putz's back door. As bizarre as this sounds, the U.S. Department of Transportation actually moved the freeway for Putz's. They do that kind of thing for holy shrines.
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