Dear Love's Truck Stop, I Hate You!

Dear Loves,

The other day I stopped at your establishment on my way to work. I am a tutor and it is generally a tedious job. I need a little happy in a cup so I can make it through. This particular day was looking to be extra craptacular, but I was running late and didn't have time to go a little out of my way to stop at my usual Diet Coke spot. Since your store is on my direct route I thought perhaps you could fulfill my needs. Oh, Loves, you disappointed me so!

Why in Heaven's name can't you get lids that actually fit your 44 oz cups? Really, is it that hard?!? I know you are just being the cheap bastard you are, but this is why it doesn't pay in the long run.

I ruined at least 5 lids before I finally got one to barely cling to the lip of the cup. Yup, 5 lids in the trash.

Then after paying $1.freaking50, hopping in my car, and speeding recklessly out of your parking lot, I reached down to my cup holder and tried to pick up my cup, but because the lid was not on securely, because it didn't fit, I dropped my 44 oz of Diet Coke, Sweet Nectar of the Gods, and it exploded all over the floor of my car.

And since I was running late, I didn't have the time to run back in the store and unleash the furies of a crazy woman without a diet coke. I could only pull over, carefully lift my floor mat up and dump my precious, all 44 oz, (well except the puddle still on the floor of my car) out onto the street all the while screaming obscenities that I had forgotten I knew.

And that is why, Dear Loves, I hate you! I hate you, hate you, hate you! And I will never ever ever ever step foot inside your white trash fest establishment again!

Sincerely,

Ranting Crazy Woman without her Diet Coke who has Totally Lost her Schmidt!