mugs

on the way home from the lake, we drove into the much-heralded blizzard that was supposed to have hit us last night. the branches on the trees by the side of the highway already were bowed down by snow, and large flakes flew toward us the way stars do on the bridge when the enterprise engages warp drive. after an hour on snowy roads, we stopped in pollock pines for dinner at the pizza factory, a restaurant that turns out to be one of a chain of over 60 west coast pizzerias restricted solely to small towns like show low, ariz., and weed, calif.

as we were leaving, hammer and i asked if we could buy their mugs (they say "we toss 'em, they're awesome", which is a masterpiece of copywriting). the woman behind the counter looked deeply perplexed and went off to consult her manager. she returned a few minutes later with two mugs, on the house.