Stop in for a cup of coffee

It's a far cry from riding my bicycle to the tiny sporting goods store in the home town at 13 and buying 22 LR ammo to go out and decimate the indigenous species of the Mojave Desert. Beer receptacles didn't stand a chance at survival. Dumped '55 Buicks looked like the "Bonnie & Clyde" death car. We always knew where to go so that we didn't harm anyone, unless you were dumb enough to be stomping around in the desert barefoot and found our beer bottle shooting range.