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I ran by the convenient store (all the convenience of a standard convenience store, but closer than usual, with free donuts and coffee, and special orders!) as part of an excuse to run around the block and get a fraction more exercise in before all the evening appointments. The owner (or relative thereof? manager, anyway) was in, and I thanked him once again for special ordering beer for me. Pumpkin Woodchuck, Blanche de Bruxelles, seasonal ciders in general... He's good at getting this stuff.
"I haven't gone through everything I bought yet," I said, when he pointed out there were more bottles left. "I should buy more. I mean, I'd feel bad if you got a case just for me and I didn't go through it."
"Oh, no," he said. "Plenty of other people are buying it."
"It's good stuff!"
"People like it," he said. "You should give me special orders more often, people always want the stuff you ask for."
And there's my warm fuzzy feeling for the day, right there.
"I haven't gone through everything I bought yet," I said, when he pointed out there were more bottles left. "I should buy more. I mean, I'd feel bad if you got a case just for me and I didn't go through it."
"Oh, no," he said. "Plenty of other people are buying it."
"It's good stuff!"
"People like it," he said. "You should give me special orders more often, people always want the stuff you ask for."
And there's my warm fuzzy feeling for the day, right there.