You can’t say

You can’t say, “I just came here for the mug” when you arrive at a crowded coffeehouse that’s a 20-minute drive from where you live, and the hipster behind the counter tells you that they don’t have any more mugs, because there is no dish washer in today, and presents you with a paper cup. But you DID just come for the mug, because it’s stoneware and perfectly formed to fit into your cupped palms, and radiates the warmth of a hearth as you sip, and you could actually care less about the coffee itself.

Fortunately, I don’t have this problem anymore, because Jeff stole me one of the mugs for my birthday. They are from Shadowlawn pottery. And I think a field trip is in order.

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