I despise you and your cranberry oatmeal mountain bars and tall house coffees with room for cream. Your sirens whispering sweet nothings into innocent passerby’s. You mock my town by cloaking yourself in local establishments and yet you still survive. You’re like a light brown german cockroach impervious to insecticide. My town successfully squashed Wal-mart’s ambitions but not you. You somehow slipped through the carpet cracks and built your roach hotel right across from my work.
DAMN YOU!
I love you.