Wednesday, December 17, 2008

A Slurpee, A Pack Of Marlboros, And All Your Money...

Me, in 1978 wearing clean underwear

The 7-Eleven Store around the corner from me seems to have quite a problem getting and keeping employees. Unfortunately the one employee that they seem hang on to, is the worst one they have. It's not that she isn't a nice person, she's nice enough. The problem is that she's a slow, bumbling, moron, who cannot multi-task. When she's working, the line at the counter usually stretches all the way back to the Slurpee® Machine because somebody has given her five dollars and twenty three cents for a four dollar and twenty three cent purchase, and is asking for the change in the form of lotto quick pick. You can actually see the smoke coming from her ears as her brain overloads.

Now I don’t usually belittle those who are employed at lower wage jobs, because I know that they are working hard at a shitty job. I also don’t make fun because thirty years ago I worked at a 7-Eleven in Oakland, California, and it was one of the most humbling experiences of my life. For three months I worked the 11PM to 7AM shift, at a store on one of Oakland’s busiest boulevards, which meant that the holdup men had an easy way to escape. Back then they didn’t have self-serve Slurpees® and it never failed that when I got a rush of customers, some little teenybopper assholes would come in and order Slurpees® and cigarettes. Usually while I was distracted getting them their Slurpees®, another one would be stealing a six pack of beer from the cooler at the opposite end of the store. My only revenge was selling them the cigarettes, and hoping they got cancer in thirty years.

The night that finally convinced me to get out of the 7-Eleven business, was the night a guy pulled a gun on me and took all the money in the register. Later that night while I was cleaning the poop out of my underpants, I decided it was time to look for another job. I did work there for one more week, but after the same guy who robbed me came in to buy cigarettes, glaring at me the whole time, I quit. I just didn’t like cleaning the poop out of my underwear.

12 comments:

  1. I think all night convenience stores should have metal detectors at the front door.

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  2. OMG Alan....I'm sure Mom never knew THIS story and it will shock the hell out of her! Garet is right...metal detectors and automatic cages that drop down and hold the bastards until the cops come. By the way...did you see the video of the 3 yr old who walked into a "Dollar Store" at 3 am??? What a neighborhood that must be!!!

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  3. mother f*cker...no one messes with my gay fiance! p.s. I'd totally poop my pants also-I'm just saying

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  4. Metal detectors, automatic cages with mad rabid dogs in them, and an electrified anal prob that shoots up into their ass and attaches a tag to their colon.

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  5. Did you get many nut cases coming to the store in the night Alan? Its like this in the UK... so I would be too scared to do that job haha

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  6. Yes it was a strange job, but I was young and felt invincible. Until the holdup that is.

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  7. More poop in your pants stories! How about that Taxi Cab story. or did you tell that one?

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  8. http://tinleytime.blogspot.com/2007/10/taxicab-confessions-not-for-faint-of.html

    Garet, copy and paste the address above for the taxicab story.

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  9. Alan,did you light up a smoke and grab a can of beer from the cooler after the guy pulled the gun on you?

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  10. I too was wondering how that job compared to your job as a taxi driver. Did you ever poop your pants then?

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  11. Yes Russell, copy and paste this address into your address bar, to read the story of me pooping my pants while driving a taxi cab.

    http://tinleytime.blogspot.com/2007/10/taxicab-confessions-not-for-faint-of.html

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  12. Please no more pooping stories.

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