Thank you, kind shopkeeper, for not verbalizing your judgments with me. You, me, and the security footage can all attest that I’m not the “catch”, the “philanthropist”, or the “mature adult” my online dating profile makes me out to be. Like my diary, you are sweet to hold your tongue when it comes to my, well, less than stellar habits involving your marketplace.
You’ve supported me unconditionally and have been there at my highest highs, like when I found that loose Sour Patch Kid on the floor and gobbled the little tasty morsel right up. And you’ve been there at my lowest lows, like right after I ate said Sour Patch Kid off the floor and I still had part of a spider web in my mustache which led to me being mocked by a pack of loose children.
You’ve been nothing but kind to me and even helped me with my scratch-off ticket addiction. By helped, of course, I mean that you’ve helped keep this delightful dependence going; always offering them and reassuring me that the one that I didn’t buy would be the winner. You’ve let me take countless dollars out of the Humane Society donation jar in exchange for IOU’s to keep my compulsion afloat. Plus, you never call me out on the blatant lie I tell every time when I say that I’m going to give half my winnings to the Humane Society. Now that’s truly the mark of an excellent 7-11 clerk.
Now, your customer service track record was always flawless, but you’ve taken your lack of oral outrage to the next level when it comes to my behavior with the grill items. It’s like clockwork; every time I come in, I insist I need a closer inspection of the hot dogs and the other pre-diarrhea, culinary travesties that twirl themselves for hours atop those shiny rollers. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, well, I had a gift card. Fool me the eleventh time, well, sorry, body, I knew exactly what I was getting into, but I had a punch card that gave me my eleventh hot dog for free.
After the eleventh such meat-train passed through my mouth tunnel, I was born again over the course of a sleepless night in which I spent nine hours of labor on the commode. Now, through my humanistic compulsion, I find it necessary to thoroughly inspect all grill items whenever I come into the store. Hopefully, through my informal research, we can all get to the bottom of what really went down on September 11th (said sleepless, but stink filled, night coincidentally occurred this past September 11th).
Needless to say, I’m glad you haven’t impeded my research or drew attention to my eccentric and my less than sanitary habits involving the hot dogs and taquitos.
Your resume is stellar already. You are truly a living saint in a red vest and nametag. Why, it was just last Friday, near the beginning of your shift I’m guessing, and I came in and bought one Digiorno frozen pizza, a pack of cigarettes, and one large bag of Twizzlers. Later in your shift, I would return yet again and make the exact same purchase. Disgusting, yes, yet you didn’t lash our linguistically toward me at any point. I felt safe. I felt I was in a judgment-free zone. You may have thought said judgments, you may have tweeted them, you may have even cried about my life to your therapist later in the week, but you held your tongue while I was there and that’s what counts
Now, to the untrained eye, it looks just like two isolated incidents. However, I think most can tell my the necessity of the second trip, just a few short hours after the first, that this was more indicative of a lethargically depressive day during which I underestimated how much damage I wanted to do to my body over reruns of Maury rather than some pizza-cigarette-licorice-fiesta day that I was hosting in which I underestimated what supplies I’d need for my guests.
If the two trips didn’t give it away, I’m sure my lack of eye contact and apathetically broken posture denoted the nature of said visits. Still, you were nothing but delightful to me and, for that, I tip my hat to you.
You truly are the yin to my yang.
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Eating sour patch kids off the floor in perfectly acceptable. They are delicious.
They’re so delicious; no amount of floor filth could block that flavor!
More crunchier.
A solid flavor enhancer.
Thank you, Sir. You have successfully persuaded my against purchasing a mini van!
Haha, I’m glad I could be convincing!
that would be “me” not “my”… SHEESH.
Haha, no worries! Happens to the best of us.
There is nothing that I love more than the awkward exchange of small talk between clerk and me. Nobody loves small talk more than me.
Oh, it’s always such a delightfully fun exchange of goods, currency, and conversation!
You have found your Trust Tree.
Yes, yes I have. I can confide all in my Trust Tree.
Always laugh out loud <—-(wrote it out for emphasis) when I read your posts!
Thank you, thank you very much for the kind, emphasized compliment!
Thank you! Always a pleasure to learn about new things passing through your mouth tunnel (even if those things are herpies!).
I will now follow your blog and allow the spirit of your words to pass through my ear tunnels much like meat and various sourpatch children have passed through your mouth tunnel and are likely aggressively making their way down your lower gastrointestinal tract.
Thank you, thank you very much! I hope you find the spirit of my ramblings enjoyable very much unlike the disdain my intestinal track had in the passing of the various hot dog meats through it. But hey, it’s not about the destination; it’s about the journey.
Epically beautiful. I like to think the 7-11 cashier is gazing up at the same moon I am, and thinking fondly of you, too. Possibly stroking the name tag ever so gently…
I sincerely hope they are and, frankly, I feel weird in other 7-11′s; like I’m cheating on my usual one that has the layout that I’m most comfortable with.
I have a similar relationship with my Hasty Market midnight cashier, except with instant noodles and far more judgement.
I’m sorry to hear that Hasty Market does not have the watchful and non-judgmental eye of Sanj like my 7-11 does.
I made a rash decision a few weeks back and bought a hamburger from a Speedway gas station… that’s all I’m gonna say… for fear of having a flashback…
Haha, I don’t want to induce any more PTSD from Speedway hamburgers on you and I certainly hope you’re not using rash as pun in that comment!
So funny. I feel like I just watched Clerks:)
Thank you very much! I assume the Digiorno pizza, a pack of cigarrettes, and large bag of Twizzlers is also a typical visit to 7-11 for Kevin Smith.
So true. I also quoted the line about “fool me twice, we’ll, I had a gift card” to my husband today and he cracked up:)
Wunderbard, I’m glad you guys enjoy my convenience store comedy!
I smell employee of the month right there.
haha. I enjoyed this ever so much. Oh, and please be kind to your poor tummy for future visits.
I’ll try to be kinder, but my stomach and my love-hate relationship will be tested anytime that Ruffles go on sale.
Your mind is a beautiful playground
thank you for sharing it
Thank you, thank for that comment. Seriously, I’ve never had my mind called that before and I absolutely love it.
Your are skilled it taking a normal regular situation and creating hysterical humor out of nothing. I find it compelling and feel excited when I see your,new posts . So you’re very welcome.
That’s exactly what I’m going for with my writing. Thank you for reading; I’m lucky to have people like you reading my stuff.
Justin–You’ve all but cannonized he 7-11 clerk, but she seems deserving of sainthood. THANKS for visiting my “pun-ny” photoblog and leaving a “like.” I can’t help hearing plants, animals, and objects “talk.”
–John R.: http://TheDailyGraff.com
I’ve always been a huge fan of puns and personified objects; it only seemed natural to like!
Later in your shift, I would return yet again and make the exact same purchase. – those Twizzlers must have been delish.
Oh, they were amazing, especially since I just tied them all into a giant knot ball and ate it like that.
I will now bow in silent reverence the next time I enter a 7-11.
They truly deserve way more credit than they get!
Wile living in Japan, “zeben eeleben” was definitely a stand by. Everyone was super friendly and would always yell, “irasshaimasu” when you entered. Never could bring myself to order something from the boiling cauldron in the front though. Stuck to sushii. Thanks for dropping by. Showed your site to my son. He had a good chuckle. Am writing this at 2:00 AM. Sigh.
Thank you very much for sharing my ramblings. I’m glad your son has a similar sense of humor! That giant cauldron does sound intimidating; seriously, how many stores have that anywhere? I remember going to a 711 in Malaysia two years ago, but it wasn’t drastically different other than everything was prawn flavored.
Not sure about the cauldron, but agree about Malaysia. We lived there too for 9 years. It was the junk back up when we couldn’t eat the fly infested curries from the stands. Blechhh!!! Would not eat off their floors. EVER.
Yeah, that sounds about right for Malaysia. Lots of open markets, fruit that smells like rotting meat, and monkeys eating out of dumpsters as far as the eye can see!
You’ve been awarded the Versatile Blogger Award: http://ichalkit.wordpress.com/2013/01/09/the-versatile-blogger-award/. Congrats!!!!! Still working on that banana hammock. Ha!
Thank you, thank you for the award! I’m flattered that you’ve enjoyed my stuff that much. And, since you seem to be in the exercise stuff, I’m assuming that you’d have access to any number of hammocks for bananas. haha
You’re welcome! One of my coaches actually has a banana hammock. I just about died when he showed me the before/after pic – the damn thing had a pocket for the balls. It was literally a “push up bra” for the balls…hilarious.
Huh, I would never have expected such support. I’m definitely intrigued now!
Hahaha….found you some banana hammocks with a pouch on none other but the Cocksox website: http://www.cocksox.com/. Hilarious. Be sure to read the Q&A under WTF.
Oh, cocksox.com , of course, of course. I did peek at the Q&A and it is pretty ridiculous. I never knew there were so many options to consider. I’ll probably need to read the Consumer Reports on all of the junk-supporting devices before I can make a decision.
I want to send this to my local 7-11 to make the cashier feel bad for shaming me over how many lottery scratchers I was attempting to buy with a debit card. “You can only gamble with cash, Miss,” he said. He definitely did not reserve judgment.
Oh, that’s rough! Please inform him of how a professional 7-11 clerk does it!
amazing
Thank you, thank you!
This was such an awesome letter to your “judgment free-zone” red-vest ambassador. I love it! You have a great talent for making people laugh. Hey did you give it to him? That would have been amazing.
Not yet, I really should one of these days. I’ve been thrifty these past few weeks and have been on a purely rice and chicken kick.
Hey Justin,
Not sure what you think of blogging awards, but I’ve nominated you for THE VERY INSPIRING BLOGGER AWARD. If you choose to accept it, check out my latest blog “Seven Things You Don’t Know About Me.” for more details. Congratulations.
Thank you, thank you very much! I’m delighted that you’ve enjoyed my stuff enough to say I was inspiring!
I really suck at commenting BUT this is really good!
Gracias, I am thrilled that you’ve liked my recap of my 7-11 mis-adventures!
Hah! I stopped by my trusty 7-11 last night around 11pm for 2 slushies (1 of each flavor, red/blue).
Hah! I went to my trusty neighborhood 7-11 a few nights ago. I bought 2 slushies because I couldn’t decide between the flavors, blue and red.
oops! I forgot I posted that last night
Haha, no worries. We can never appreciate 7-11 enough!