Like a beacon in the night, when all else is shut down due to an invisible virus that can kill, the lights at Circle are ablaze, its front desk manned by a minimum wage worker in death's harm, serving those dashing in for a Twinkle, a bottle of some kind of water laced with salt, sugar and dyes in various forms, or a pack of cigs. Priorities. This virus will eventually end, but death by tar and nicotine shall remain a precious right.
Right. Pun intended.
It is what it is. A convenience store next to the big slab of pavement that races across Kansas. A last bastion of hope for water that used to be free, corn fructose in brown liquid form that doesn't taste as good as the Mexican kind made from real cane sugar. And thank God someone is trying to build a wall to keep that shit out of 'Merica. Are we Great yet? Don't think so. Save us, Orange Voldemort.
But ya know, if it wasn't there we'd miss it. But it's not one star, and no one in their right mind would give it five, or four, truth be known. But it did server a critical need on this evening which should be recognized. For two minutes, I forgot about the time we are living in. Thank you, Circle K. read more
