Speaking of reasons why I’m NOT at my fighting weight…
The convience store of choice here in the Mid-Atlantic area is Wawa. If God himself decided to create a convenience store, it’d be Wawa. Great hoagies, great deli, fantastic coffee I’m told, soft drinks galore and tons of goodies to eat. Wawas are ubiquitous here — I pass 3 every morning on my way to work.
And within the last few months they’ve started with self-serve milkshakes. F’real Milkshakes! You grab your choice of flavour (chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, or coffee) from the freezer and pop it in the blender’s cupholder. Next, you press a button for your desired thickness. Much like the Assumption, the cup with the frozen goop inside is pulled up into the blender. Then? Magic. Or, rather, blending. The cup descends back into your field of view, and instead of a frozen block of chocolate, you receive a perfectly blended milkshake.
Truly a dangerous thing. Pardon me while I break into song..
I can easilly picture sitting with you at a soda shop, two straws sticking out of an old-school milkshake.
There are few things in life so horridly bad that a milkshake cannot make just a little bit better. It ranks right up there with rainbows, kittens/puppies, and the smile of a beautiful woman. Now, I’m not advocating taking a milkshake to, say, a funeral, but you catch my drift.
I think you’re sweet on me, Wandering Minstrel. I won’t ask you to come out from behind the mask yet, though. I’m enjoying this as it goes.
Those sound… hideously addictive.
But the thing I miss most about Wawas? (Since there are no Wawas here in America’s Nicest City?) The Philly soft pretzels next to the cash register. *sniffle*
(“Like the Assumption…” Hee hee!)