Walking into Polka Dots in Pier Park, is like suddenly finding yourself teleported back to the days of when the Andy Griffith show and soda-pop shops were quickly becoming the rage.
Something about this store connects with the little kid in me, discretely loosening the feeble reigns connected to my Adult Decorum. As soon as that little kid tastes the sweet, sweet freedom, races through the store giggling at the fake dog poop and merrily banging away on the Rock’em Sock’em Robot Game, he’s filled with a grin reminiscent of a whole slice of watermelon in his mouth.
