It was a Wednesday in Brookings, just past dawn, foggy, and my local coffee joint was closed. I could stop at Dutch Bros for their burned brew, but my mind wasn't prepared for youthful, corporate-contrived eagerness that early in the morning or any morning for that matter.
Mr. Tambourine Man
Mr. Tambourine Man
Mr. Tambourine Man
It was a Wednesday in Brookings, just past dawn, foggy, and my local coffee joint was closed. I could stop at Dutch Bros for their burned brew, but my mind wasn't prepared for youthful, corporate-contrived eagerness that early in the morning or any morning for that matter.