This post would be more appropriately titled, "Walking 5 Miles For a Cuppa Coffee That Pretty Much Never Happened." But that's too long.
I know I've prattled on and on about my small town, how cute and quaint it is, and how there just happens to be a delicious coffee place right on the corner. Well, there used to be. After a long stroll around a few borough blocks we popped into said coffee shop only to find it stocked with liquor bottles and serving surf and turf instead. Lord, where have all the good people gone?
So we tried Sheetz next door only to find it wasn't one of the sexy, upgraded Sheetz with a full-service coffee bar. It was the kind that smells like a porta-john and has stale donuts lined up in paper wrappers at the checkout. Now you might be tempted to think that our spirits were absolutely crushed, our fingers positively numb, and our tummies quietly rumbling for a hot shot of caffeine, but we persevered. We charged onward. We finally made it to...McDonald's.
We're classy coffee drinkers, ya'll. And if nothing else, the booths make for a wicked fun game of Peek-a-Boo. And when you're with your favorite family, the coffee doesn't really matter.