Good chocolate in a place where even decent chocolate is hard to find. Been going there since the…read moremid 1980s when it was actually in the cellar. Many tried and true flavors retained over the decades with a sprinkle of new from time to time. Comfort with an occasional tweak. The milk chocolate is good; the dark chocolate is a little better.

Everything! From 3 generations of amazing women who run the shop to the hundreds of antique…read morechocolate, Run, don't walk here! The English toffee is to die for!!!

Two days ago, I ordered a string trimmer from Ace Hardware online for pickup at the Downtown store…read morein Fort Collins. According to my order, the trimmer was on sale for on sale for $139.99. I received an order confirmation email from Ace. I called the store today to see if I could pick up the trimmer tomorrow and was told that their computer said not to fulfill the order. The rep suggested that I place the order again. I tried repeatedly to log in to Ace's website and even tried to order the trimmer as a guest, but the website was dysfunctional. So I found a similar trimmer at Lowes for $153 and ordered it there. I figured it was worth $13 to me to buy a trimmer without all the hassle I had to go through with Ace.

Downtown Ace Hardware sets the benchmark for hardware stores. They have many hard to find items,…read moreand will readily search and order specialty items if needed. The are abundantly staffed, and the employees are knowledgeable and and always very helpful. The quality of the products they offer is often higher than what I find at the big box stores; and I'd rather buy something which will work well and last a long time than buy multiple iterations of lower quality products. Their downstairs area has top quality grills, and a fantastic selection. It's a gem of a hardware store.

A store that cant choose what it wants to sell…read more Between the home goods, food, toys and furniture big lots has a large selection of items but offer mediocre quality for everything. I came in shopping for home goods for a new house. The selection of curtains and towels were poor. The prices of everything was extremely competitive with other stores but lacked quality in the items they sold. Associates were helpful and knowledgeable with questions I asked

The store is nice on the outside and also on the inside as well. Once you go in you can tell that…read moreeverything is organized and it is clean as well staff is in the right place. In particular I like their furniture it's very nicely set up and it works well in the house we have one of the couches as well.

I wanted a standard maintenance, oil change and lube, performed on my vehicle. They schedule first…read morecome, first served. I arrived, got my name on the list, and waited my turn. When they were ready, In went my car. They found an issue with my air filter, showed it to me, and had one on hand to replace it . They completed the servicing, have me the bill, and soon I was back on the road. A fantastic job, quick and courteous, I like this place.

Car wash worst in town went into the self was brush didn't work at all NOT WORTH THE MONEY 0 starsread more

Stopped at this truck stop while traveling for work somewhere out in the middle of Wyoming, just…read moreplanning to grab fuel and a few snacks. While we were inside, we noticed a kitchen in the back that looked surprisingly legit authentic big pots, real equipment, and what looked like a family running the whole operation. Everyone there was incredibly friendly and welcoming. We got to chatting and learned the place was run by a Sikh family. The kitchen smelled amazing, and after seeing how authentic everything looked, we figured we'd give it a shot. Normally, Indian food from a truck stop in rural Wyoming isn't something I'd experiment with knowing I still had 6-7 hours of travel ahead of me to get home, but this place completely blew us away. I ordered the chicken tikka masala with garlic naan, and my buddy got the butter chicken with plain naan. Both came out piping hot in about 10 minutes. The flavors were incredible, rich, aromatic, and perfectly balanced. Honestly better than a lot of places I've had in bigger cities. I ended up scarfing mine down while driving to the airport because it smelled too good to wait. I'm pretty particular about Indian food and usually don't eat it much outside of places like London, but this was fantastic. If I'm ever passing through that area again, I'll absolutely stop back and probably grab multiple plates. One of those unexpected road-trip food wins you don't forget.

Stopped for gas at this unsigned station in the middle of no where. Found prices here to be about a…read moredollar more than stations before and after. Our tank was getting low, so we added a couple gallons and moseyed on down the road. Paid at pump, did not go inside. No receipt from pump. Happy motoring.

Seemed like a really cool place. Did not have what I was looking for but had a lot of great items.read more

Doesn't look like much. Especially because is in this huge mall. But for those of us that like to…read morejust browse and see if you'll find something interesting that you may like to buy. This would be a good spot to stop at. They had many hand crafted items and nik naks to choose from. The store is feature in one of the places to stop at if you are in Wyoming. Gave them four stars solely because the store is just hyped up.

wonderfully nice service! The service manager was the best and helped us replace our flat and…read morerecommended a great place to get a new tire!

I am doing about 85 MPH across Wyoming with my daughter's cats, which I've let out of their cages…read morean hour or so before. Around 6 PM, as the dying October light casts the shadows of the clouds on the rolling mocha hills, a semi drifts into my lane. I jerk the steering wheel too hard to the left, and the front tire blows, and I go into a roll. The vehicle comes to rest on its lid. With the glass from the shattered sun-roof ground into my scalp, I unfasten my seat belt and hustle out through the busted driver's side window through which both my daughter's cats have escaped already. One of the cats, a fat, orange, affectionate rascal named Max, is grabbed by an alert witness and handed over to the proprietor of this establishment. In the middle of the night, I'm released from the hospital. I'm covered in blood. My right ear sticks out like a car door. One corner of the back of my head is sheared raw. The front desk nurse has called her boyfriend, a very serious little man who works three jobs: security guard, cabbie, and Holiday Inn desk clerk. He calls his hotel, reserves a room for me, then gives me a ride in a Gremlin that is his cab and that had no meter. En route to the hotel, he agreeably stops by a liquor store, goes in with my debit card and PIN number and returns with a generously sized bottle of scotch. The next day or so, liquor and codeine at the Laramie Holiday Inn. The endless, fidgeting pursuit of any physical attitude, of any configuration of head and limbs that will relieve the pain in one part of my body without dispatching it promptly to another. One morning, I believe I have the strength to fetch Max. I drive to Elk Mountain and exit the interstate and find myself in a picture-postcard community with a single white church and a post office and little clapboard houses separated into blocks by dirt roads. In the post office, I ask the clerk how to get to the towing garage. "There are two ways." Please God, I think, just tell me one of them. He tells me I can drive up the gravel road that winds up the mountain and that, as soon as I crest it, I'll see the garage. So off I go. As I drive, my mind wanders and settles on a sign affixed to a tree, block letters, all caps: FREE STOCK. I work at Microsoft at the time, so "stock" means "shares", and I'm wondering what wily scheme is this when the sharp current of fear that preserved us until now moves my feet fast and hard to the brakes. The van fishtails and scatters a plume of gravel and dust and the bumper comes to rest two inches from the side of a steer. He is joined slowly by desultory cows that surround the van, staring stupidly at nothing in particular. Should I blow the horn? I wonder. Will they attack the van? I blow the horn. They disperse. I continue to the garage. It is vast, fronted by what looks like an abandoned gas station. The elevation is about a mile, I'm in pain, I can't breathe, it's October, the wind is biting and whips so fiercely it feels as if it might tip the van. The proprietor is late. Finally, a little old yellow Toyota pickup pulls into the garage, and I approach the window. The driver, a taciturn old man, rolls it down. "How you doin'?" he said. "Well," I answer, "I can't breath at this elevation and I'm in severe pain and I've been waiting an hour. I'm fine, I guess." Oblivious to my sarcasm, he answers, "I'm sorry. I was sure I told you I had to get the wife into Laramie for chemo before I could meet you here." Only then do I register that there is someone sitting beside him -- a pasty, bald woman with her head cradled in a neck pillow. I apologize with great conviction. He brushes my apologies aside. "Let me take her home and I'll come back and get you your cat." He returns and takes me to a place where he's put down a towel and a water dish, and for an exasperating hour, we search for Max. We pass a crushed economy car. The roof is nearly torn off, and there is a jumble of clothing and jewelry and cash and open suitcases, and a solitary spike-heeled shoe. "That one was a fatality," he says. Emotionally weakened by days of pain, I am, for a moment, attuned acutely to the unbearable sadness of someone who's just learned a daughter isn't coming home and has died violently in a place of almost lunar barrenness. It is apparent now that the entire world is having a worse day than me. After a two-hour search that covers every inch of this vast garage, we find Max in the wheel well of a truck. With him hugged to my chest, I race in great excitement to my van, trip over a trailer hitch, and split my head on the cement floor. Max flies from my arms, disappears, and for the day, I acknowledge defeat. I return to the hotel, to my liquor and codeine. The next day, I return. I pass through the station in front of the garage, and there sits the proprietor's wife and several of her friends, in front of a fuel barrel with a hole cut in it and in which wood

Customer friendly and highly experienced professionals. Personalized and high quality services…read more Great value at competitive prices.

The Key People has been consistent in their services for my company for over 4 years. The cleaners…read morehave always been friendly and thorough. I appreciate the good communication and positive attitudes that I have experienced when calling the company. Great service all around!

Not the nicest of places but the restrooms are clean enough. It's a little crowded and the entry…read moreand exits are weird. The parking is worse since you can't part next to the building because the pumps are too close. Not the best of designs.

Traveling home on hour 22 of a 32 hour drive. I had to ask about regular milk due to allergies…read more These guys were so nice and helpful and went next door to get some from the diner next door. A good start to the day. Thank you for going the extra mile to help a stranger on the road. This place will now be my chosen stop when passing through Cheyenne, which happens often.