“
I mean…sure, my guilty conscience poked at me a few times, but the more I went, the easier it got. America’s greatest serial killers probably lived by this same mantra. But so be it.
Give me complimentary coffee or give me death.
The CCC had become my Luke’s Diner. I was Lorelai Gilmore waltzing in every day, and that little, nonverbal, automated coffee machine was the grumpy diner owner that I was slowly falling in love with. And now I’ve met Betty, the baker of the goods and direct cause of my poor diet these past few weeks.
But love is a wild creature. You can’t contain it or control it. You can’t break it and tell it no. It’s a charging animal that you must accept as your destiny.
That is how I feel about the Tire Depot CCC: true, unadulterated love.
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