Rest assured the cashier was a 19-year-old Korn cap-festooned, creepy flesh-colored goateed dude who strangely declined my offer to take his picture.
Now we're in Iowa, bout to pick Tim up from the Des Moines airport, high-tail it to Iowa City, and squeeze one out. We've covered almost 2000 miles in about 50 hours. Not recommended.
1 comment:
welp. so much for the all important Convenience Cashiers lobby!
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