It's a very warm Monday evening in Hali. Well, "very" is relative, isn't it? It's maybe 19 or 20 degrees outside. But it still feels warm and sticky. Maybe I shouldn't be wearing a snowsuit. Maybe I should leave the mukluks in the closet for a few months. Certainly, I won't wear them at the cottage this weekend.
It was an interesting day at work. "Interesting" is the adjective I employ when I can't think of another one to use. Our big move to the other part of town is next week. Everyone is making fun of me because I allegedly have so much stuff to move. It's only gonna be 3 boxes, folks. I will find room for the sombrero somewhere, folks.
Yeah.
The sombrero.
Don't judge me.
When we leave this part of town, I will have access to different coffee shops. I am confident that none of them will be worse than the crappy ones on our block. I don't understand what confluence of events resulted in all these places being situated in one small area of the downtown. It is as if the city planners have a C zone, where all the shitty coffee joints go, in much the same way as other cities have a red light district where all the hookers ply their trade. Working in the C zone, where Certainly Cinnamon is on one side of the street, and Just Us is on the other. At the far end, Starbucks sells coffee at a price that would require me to take out a second mortgage.
On the other side of the block, across the street, is a place called Rudy's. The food is ok. The coffee is... well, let's put it this way: One of Hal FM's major prizes is a coffee cards from that place. I rest my case.
I'm told there is a good deli in that part of the street we are moving to. There is a Tim's. There are other coffee shops nearby. Surely to frig there is a place that doesn't suck somewhere in that part of town.
After all, I don't believe in conspiracies.
Bevboy
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