Slurpee Is My Armor
Well, since I’m one of those poor saps who has to work at crappy jobs to get money, I worked a lot of late nights once summer started. Sometimes, if I was lucky, I would have time to go stop by that trusty 7-Eleven on Murray and Farmington! (Being a somewhat recent Slurpee disciple, I didn’t know of any other locations between my job and my house) But, as you might have been able to guess, the clientele at a 7-Eleven after 11 pm is not always the best. Thus, we have the following experience, which shows the power of Slurpee and he (or she) who wields it.

I was putzing around in the car after closing at work before going to see my beloved, and I remembered that I was heinously thirsty. So I stopped at aforementioned 7-Eleven to buy us some truly dandy Blue-Ras

Slurpees.

However, I began to feel some trepidation as I pulled up in front of the store, for there was a creepy looking guy entering at the same time. He sees me and starts giving me funny looks, which thoroughly freaks me out. Nonetheless, I would not pass up the chance at Slurpees, so I went in anyways.

As I parked myself in front of the Slurpee Machine, I noticed creepy guy studying at the nachos and hot dogs, while still looking over at me every so often. But I still attempted to ignore this while filling my two Slurpee cups, and sending major telepathic vibes telling him to get bent.

By the time I was done and was putting the lids on, creepy guy did not seem to have gotten my telepathic message to sod off, (damn ESP never works!) so I was starting to feel pretty freaked. But I rememberd that I had the power of Slurpee in my two hands! So I steeled myself, and carried my 2 Slurpees in front of me, putting on my meanest “don’t mess with me, don’t even talk to me” scowl, and went up to the counter. I paid for my Slurpees, and the friendly clerk, who I sometimes have a short chat with out of politeness, noticed I was not in the mood to gab, so he gives me my change and I leave, looking back at creepy guy one last time before exiting the store. He is sulking by the tortilla chips and will no longer look at me. Coincidence? I think not.

Sarah G. (skeeterino@hotmail.com)