Hook Line & Espresso

My weekdays start with a morning latte from Hook Line and Expresso, always greeted by a warm, friendly and happy barista. Latte’s always prepared the same way, quick service. Same can be said for my wife’s drinks. Cost are lower than most.

This place is great! The drinks are CHEAP and don’t taste burnt. I loved that the gal working remembered me from the day before. I also love places that have punch cards. I’m all about the rewards! Right now they have White Mocha Pumpkin Spice… OMG. A must try!

This coffee hut isn’t any better or worse than the other huts all across the pacific northwest. It is along the route between Seattle and the Mountain Loop Highway, so the location is awesome. I had whatever their special of the day was, with half the flavored syrup, and it was perfect. The drink came with a chocolate covered coffee-​bean on the lid, a nice bonus!

Sibling was concerned about the state of his feet. «They’re white as death,» he said, looking down at where one of them rested on the bumper of the car, beside the snow-​sodden running shoe he’d just removed.
I looked at his instep, which did have a sickly gray-​white sheen.
«That’s your sock,» I told him.
«My foot looks like that too! I saw it, you didn’t,» he squibbled.
«You shouldn’t have left your boots in Oklahoma,» was my quite unnecessary reminder.
Sibling soon achieved his long-​desired dry-​socked state and started driving down out of the mountains, but not till we passed a shop advertising worms and espresso did his preoccupation begin to shift away from his feet. I tried to interest him in the worms, but his attention was caught by the coffee.
«Didn’t we pass a coffee hut in Granite Falls?» he wondered. He drove. I yawned. Our day had contained, he pointed out, less caffeine than expected, as well as more snow.
His musings went underground for a bit, then burst out again: «Before, I thought coffee sounded good, but now I *need* a cup of coffee,» he remarked.
And so were we rendered glad by the sight of the Hook Line Espresso hut crouched there atop a medium-​sized expanse of gravel by the side of the highway. There were suggestions in its signage of both worms and illiteracy («ESSPRESSO,» it said, in big letters engraved in wood), and Sibling thought his latte tasted like plain coffee with plain milk. For my part, I was not sure why I’d been issued a straw. But these are trivial complaints. A coffee hut placed just where you need one is a commendable thing.