Ode to Quick Trip

O Quick Trip,
you are my rock
in a sea of unsteadiness.
Your coffee is always hot
and does not taste like mud
unlike other gas stations
who will not be named here.
When I come in the door
I am greeted
with a cool but friendly
"Heywhazup."
I pour my coffee
and add the creamer.
Then I give you my money.
Sometimes there is even
a doughnut involved
or two.
As I turn to leave
I hear a simple
"Seeyounexttime."
And that is enough
to look forward to
at four in the morning.