COBS. Classy Oven Bread. That's not what it stands for, but it is some amazing deliciousness in my mouth that makes me want to throw all the other bread I have out. The ladies here are super sweet, with smiles that get wider as you add a million different things to your order, because there are a million different delectables you want to shove in to your gaping maw.
You don't go to Cobs for just one loaf of bread. Maybe that's what you tell yourself in the car. Maybe it's what you repeat to yourself, like a mantra as you cross the parking lot. Maybe it's what you say in your head as you wait in the line that snakes in the narrow entry space of the store. Then your turn comes up and out of your mouth tumbles a catalogued list of their entire display.
I never liked sliced bread that wasn't toasted first. Until I bought a multigrain loaf from Cobs. I ate three slices in the car on my way home. The guy in the car next to me at the stop light probably thought I looked like Homer Simpson when he went to hell and was forced to eat donuts for all eternity.