Being the awesome jo-jo hunters that we are, we brainstormed the sketchiest place in Farmington. 'Cause everyone knows that the best jo-jos comes from the shadiest of places. The places where music is playing outside for the enjoyment of those pumping gas, or really for those groups of people who don't fit anywhere else and have to congregate under the eaves of the local pump station. And consequently are the sole reason the place doesn't shut down completely because of their addiction to sipping on rockstars and monsters while lighting a ciggy.
Now, you wonder, is there such a place in Farmington? A country town where sycamore trees reach their branches from the sides of the streets, stretching and meeting in a canopy over the yellow, double-lined tranquility of main. Where side streets have no painted lines and are wide enough for two horse-drawn carriages. Could there be jo-jos in a place like this?
Yes.
We reached the top-stop and didn't waste any time searching the 20x30 ft establishment but went directly to the sleep-deprived tenant. Just looking at him for the 15 seconds we were there it was obvious that he was working 2 jobs, had a wife and a few kids who barely knew him as their father due to him keeping bread in their bellies. But he understood our jo-jo situation. Bless his heart.
We had been correct in our assumption, this local location had jo-jos, but only from 7am-3pm. Not good enough. We needed them now. We checked two other gas stations, neither of them carried them, ever, and the grocery store, which was nearing closing time, and had everything put away. Terrible, terrible, terrible.
After we giggled about the grocery store receipt printer farting out our receipt for soda and chips we got another red box movie and called it a well-done night. Our jo-jo cravings will have to come earlier in the day if we're to find what we need.
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