I was in Hingham Center the other day and I saw a little storefront advertised as "Brewed Awakenings". Turns out it is a chain.
Right away, I understood that it had to be a coffee shop but I could not quite stomach the name.
For me, it evoked memories of my father's formidable early morning flatulence.
To boot, there seemed to always be coffee, being prepared or consumed, as a backdrop as well.
Perhaps these scars explain why I never drank coffee?
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