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Where were you on 7-11? I was at 7-Eleven....
.... snagging my complimentary, 7.11 oz. Slurpee, in honor of what has to be the coolest -- albeit tragically underpublicized -- holiday the side of Juneteenth. Beats the pants off of Arbor Day, anyway. This 7-11 will be the fourth since the morning I first walked into the Sev for my daily Double Gulp of Dew, spied the dateline on the NYT, and remarked
Sev Guy: Uh, yeah -- you get a free Slurpee.
Me: No kidding!?
Sev Guy: Uh, yeah. Cups are around here somewhere......... *fumbles under the Camels, eventually brandishes the dusty tube of wimpy, faded, once-gailey-painted memorial Dixie cups*
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Homeland Security Czar Tom Ridge declares BIG RED ALERT for 7-11, urging the nation to be vigilant against possible C2-Jolt-Cola-Barq's-Bite-Orange-Slice-Fanta-fanatic suicide attacks. |
Me: *skeptical eyebrows*
Sev Guy: It's a 7.11 oz.
Me: *skeptical eyebrows*
Sev Guy: You can get as many as you want.
Me: Does anybody even know about this? Is there a sign?
Sev Guy: They told me about it this morning. You're the first one.
Me: Really? Wow! Hey everybody, you get a free Slurpee! It's 7-11!
7-Eleven: *pandemonium*
Every year, exactly the same. I walk in, I'm not even sure I'll get my free Slurpee. But this year, I am supremely confident. I will demand it. So this 7-11, get ye on down to your nearest. Celebrate the iridium-half-life gnosticism of forgotton marketing campaigns slouching into pretzel-scented twilight. Worship at the alter of the swirling tri-clops God of the 54 oz. Slurp & Gulp. Marvel at the perfect expression of can-do Yankee know-how that is the 14" spoon-tip straw. Verily I say unto you, O Thank Heaven! -- Race ya to a brain freeze.
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