7-Eleven

Smells like all others, burnt hot dogs and burnt coffee! Time for a shower!

Ok, I’ve been in many 7-​Elevens before. Some had me feeling all happy and cheery inside — motivating me to flutter about and sample all of the new limited edition goodies on the inside. Some had me feeling like a robbery was imminent and making me wish I had my side arm.
This one, made me feel like a degenerate.
Ok, like many, I am an avid lottery player. I plunk down $ 5 of my hard earned dollars bi-​weekly on the off chance that the powers of fortune would like to alleviate me of this dog-​race called ‘making money’ and just shower it unfairly upon me. Honestly, it’s a fat chance — I don’t live in a trailer park, I’m not on social security, and I don’t pray to Wicken idols (e.g. the last Mega Millions winner in Maryland). But nonetheless, the big numbers lure me and off I go (besides, I’m supporting the school children, right?).
However, the counter folks always seem to give me the odd stare of, «you are a low-​life for buying a ticket that I’m not eligible to purchase since I sell them.» As the old saying goes, «don’t block my cock, and your mouth won’t get socked.» Or is that just me? Anyways, these dudes look at me as if I should go inside their store and spend the $ 5 on a 12-​pack of cheap beer (Miller High Life) or some other rot gut they carry. No thanks. I’d rather win the lottery and proceed to cleanse my bum using $ 10 bills (let’s be realistic, I won’t get paid THAT much) while gambling my riches away in Las Vegas. But I digress…
I’ll keep buying the lottery tickets, but like a 16 year old boy buying condoms, I just won’t make eye contact and pray for my 30 second experience to be over that much sooner.