Just how a vegan ice cream shop could contribute to an increase in vagrancy and drug addiction we will never know.

Yet to the residents of one South End neighborhood association, it was fact. And because of an antiquated law making a takeout permit discretionary, residents were able to force the business into submission — delaying its opening for months.

Deena Jalal and her husband, Hin Tang, didn’t start with milk-free ice cream. In 2010, they took over an Emack & Bolio’s franchise in Brookline. Jalal, a former marketing executive for Bose, and Tang, a financial systems consultant, decided that being small business owners was far better than the “corporate thing.’’ Soon their search for quality, scratch-made products led them to open FoMu, an all-vegan ice cream store.

FoMu’s first location was in Allston’s Union Square. In that location, when it came to permitting, they got lucky. The previous operator was also an ice cream store, so they didn’t need to jump through any hoops to get to a new permit for the space. They didn’t even hire a lawyer.

Things didn’t go so well in Jamaica Plain, where they opened their second location in 2013. There, due to the underlying (and antiquated) zoning, restaurants were required to appear before the city’s zoning board in order to secure a takeout permit. This required months of process — meetings with abutters, neighborhood, and business groups. Some unfairly used the process as a form of protectionism. “They raised concerns about hurting J.P. Licks,’’ Jalal told me.

Yet, for FoMu’s South End store, scheduled to open this year, residents took it to another level. Suddenly FoMu was forced to answer concerns that ranged from loitering to drug use — problems rarely associated with dishing out ice cream. In the neighborhood, worry over such problems is legitimate, but most research actually suggests adding activity to streets at the pedestrian level, including small businesses, improves safety.

According to FoMu’s attorney, Marc LaCasse, the takeout permit process was instead being used as a “battering ram for neighbors.’’ For example, they required that employees of the business be trained to protect against vagrancy issues. In addition, residents refused to allow outdoor seating, even though there is a perfect area for it at the corner location.

As if a patio full of happy people eating ice cream somehow invites undesirables.

Mercifully, amid this trying process, the City of Boston stepped in and reversed the law requiring takeout permits. The commissioner of Boston’s Inspectional Services Department issued a directive that reinterpreted the definition of takeout and effectively put an end to this madness.

Bless him.

Over the last few years, people running for local office have boldly began to brandish the words, “business friendly’’ as part of their platforms. Indeed, City Councilor Ayanna Pressley worked to make liquor licenses available to restaurants in outlying neighborhoods, and her colleague Michelle Wu launched a “permitting and licensing listening tour’’ across business districts throughout the city.

Just this last election cycle, Annissa Essaibi George, a woman who owns a yarn and fabric store in Dorchester and who advocated for small businesses, beat out an 18-year incumbent to become a city councilor.

Yet other vestiges that hold back small businesses are still a daily frustration to entrepreneurship in Boston. Indeed, the small business survey Thumbtack.com, gave the city a D+ when it comes to licensing. And these same leaders must also consider how they can create new initiatives that other cities already offer — business startup centers, easy-to-access loans, helpful expediters, and other innovations.

Boston is a better city with active and thriving small businesses. And better still with another ice cream store — dairy or otherwise.

Mike Ross, a Boston-based real estate attorney, writes regularly for the Globe. Follow him on Twitter @mikeforboston.