Saturday, October 10, 2009

and then later, tripping in 7-Eleven...

I'm sure I've mentioned my pathological relationship—nay—obsession with the incredible store of ultimate convenience. If I haven't, it's because I haven't needed to. You may have accompanied me on a Sev-run or even heard me refer to one of "my 7-Elevens," because I do both of those things. If you haven't, don't worry. You know now. And knowing is half the eighties catchphrase. I'd been making trips to my 7-Eleven almost daily (I've made a point to always live within walking distance of at least one at a time) until Ravi, the wall-eyed Armenian cashier, started referring to me affectionately as "Slurpee Girl" and even more affectionately telling my boss that he wants to work at Yolk to be closer to me. Yes, he knows I'm married. No, he does not care. You've got to admire the kid. He's pretty ballsy for convenience store worker with a lazy eye. I digress....

When I woke up this morning, it was just an ordinary day. But when I stopped at my 7-Eleven for my post-Yolk slurpee, I realized it was a very special day indeed.


This is my Domo cup. I don't know who Domo is or where he came from, but I love him and I love that I'm drinking out of him.



1 comment:

Lauren said...

It's nice to see that Domo got a new job at the Sev. When Target hired him as their Halloween mascot last year it was probably the most exciting thing that ever happened to me, because pagan holidays + Japanese monsters = all kinds of awesome in my book.