My 7-11 Family
There is a 7-11 in the base of my building. And if having a 7-11 right next door weren’t convenient enough, there’s even a private door that lets people from my building go directly into the 7-11 without going outside. I never went to 7-11’s before I lived here. Only because it was never a part of my routine. I think they were all around, but if I needed the kind of thing you can get at a 7-11, I usually got it at a Target or Rite Aid.
When I first moved in, my parents and I went to the 7-11 all the time. They had snacks and water bottles and sometimes, after long days of unpacking even got a quick and fatty dinner. My father also got coffee there in the morning. For a couple of days he talked about how good the coffee was, how there was so much to choose from, how it was cheap and there were even cheaper refills, etc. I classified this as annoying dad talk, nodded, smiled and kept my mind focused on finding a near-by Starbucks. See, I am a coffee snob. I love coffee, and I have very particular tastes about it. It doesn’t have to be expensive, but it has to be “good.” The reason? Because good coffee is my reward. It is my reward for being up each morning and facing the day.
So when my dad said, “The coffee at 7-11 is really good,” I didn’t believe him.
The thing is….he was right. My 7-11 has about 12-15 coffees to choose from every day. They have all my favorites—French Roast, Colombian, Kona, Blue Mountain, etc. They have all kinds of different flavored creams, they offer Splenda (which is splendid!) and they even have different flavored syrups a la the more expensive coffee chains. Plus, it costs me $1.21 for a small cup of coffee, versus $1.75+ for an equivalent Americano experience. Thus, I have yet to go to a Starbucks in the Baltimore area. I’m not even really sure where they are…
In addition to the coffee, I have also come to rely on my 7-11 for the occasional supply of milk, exam-prep nutrition (in the form of Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream), $2 sandwiches when I’m too lazy to make my own, water bottles for guests, chips and salsa when I am too desperate to wait for the suburban trek to Trader Joes, AND sometimes…the latest Life & Style magazine, solely for workout encouragement purposes.
All this is great, but I think the best part about my 7-11 is that I am now officially a regular. I know all the guys who work there. The one who works during the weekday mornings lets me cut the line to pay. Whenever I want. (He knows I’m in a hurry.) Sometimes the manager gives me free coffee or covers the balance of my $1.21 should I not have exact change. Sometimes they put the lid on my drink for me.
On Thursday night, post my final final, I wanted a treat. It was late-ish, it had been a long week and I had been watching TV on my couch. I had my glasses on and I was wearing sweats. My hair was back in a pony tail and surrounded by a halo of frizz due to the torrential rain that fell on my carefully flat-ironed hair earlier that afternoon. AND, I wasn’t wearing a bra. Of course, my big sweatshirt hid that fact, but you get the picture. I was focused on getting my sweet treat and getting out of there. I went over to the baked goods display and was eyeing a cookie when one of the workers I know come up and suggested I get a brownie. He was REALLY trying to talk me into it and even took one out to show me how good it was and “how happy it would make [me].” The other 7-11 guy then came up to tell me I had something in my hair. I tried to find and remove it but couldn’t. He kept trying to direct my hand to where it was. I ended up saying, “You know, it doesn’t matter. I’m just going back up stairs.” He didn’t care. It bothered him enough that he had to come over and remove it himself (it turned out to be a white feather from the throw pillow I had been lying on). Then I went to the counter to pay. The guy at the counter said, “Long time no see.” I laughed and said, “I was here yesterday!” He laughed along with me.
My parents got to know a lot of the people who work in the building and at the 7-11 before they left. My parents are generally friendly and sometimes overly chatty people. I often heard them say things like, “This is my daughter. She just moved here. We’re helping her move in then we’re going back to California. Take care of her for us after we leave!”
I think maybe the 7-11 people really took that to heart.
When I first moved in, my parents and I went to the 7-11 all the time. They had snacks and water bottles and sometimes, after long days of unpacking even got a quick and fatty dinner. My father also got coffee there in the morning. For a couple of days he talked about how good the coffee was, how there was so much to choose from, how it was cheap and there were even cheaper refills, etc. I classified this as annoying dad talk, nodded, smiled and kept my mind focused on finding a near-by Starbucks. See, I am a coffee snob. I love coffee, and I have very particular tastes about it. It doesn’t have to be expensive, but it has to be “good.” The reason? Because good coffee is my reward. It is my reward for being up each morning and facing the day.
So when my dad said, “The coffee at 7-11 is really good,” I didn’t believe him.
The thing is….he was right. My 7-11 has about 12-15 coffees to choose from every day. They have all my favorites—French Roast, Colombian, Kona, Blue Mountain, etc. They have all kinds of different flavored creams, they offer Splenda (which is splendid!) and they even have different flavored syrups a la the more expensive coffee chains. Plus, it costs me $1.21 for a small cup of coffee, versus $1.75+ for an equivalent Americano experience. Thus, I have yet to go to a Starbucks in the Baltimore area. I’m not even really sure where they are…
In addition to the coffee, I have also come to rely on my 7-11 for the occasional supply of milk, exam-prep nutrition (in the form of Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream), $2 sandwiches when I’m too lazy to make my own, water bottles for guests, chips and salsa when I am too desperate to wait for the suburban trek to Trader Joes, AND sometimes…the latest Life & Style magazine, solely for workout encouragement purposes.
All this is great, but I think the best part about my 7-11 is that I am now officially a regular. I know all the guys who work there. The one who works during the weekday mornings lets me cut the line to pay. Whenever I want. (He knows I’m in a hurry.) Sometimes the manager gives me free coffee or covers the balance of my $1.21 should I not have exact change. Sometimes they put the lid on my drink for me.
On Thursday night, post my final final, I wanted a treat. It was late-ish, it had been a long week and I had been watching TV on my couch. I had my glasses on and I was wearing sweats. My hair was back in a pony tail and surrounded by a halo of frizz due to the torrential rain that fell on my carefully flat-ironed hair earlier that afternoon. AND, I wasn’t wearing a bra. Of course, my big sweatshirt hid that fact, but you get the picture. I was focused on getting my sweet treat and getting out of there. I went over to the baked goods display and was eyeing a cookie when one of the workers I know come up and suggested I get a brownie. He was REALLY trying to talk me into it and even took one out to show me how good it was and “how happy it would make [me].” The other 7-11 guy then came up to tell me I had something in my hair. I tried to find and remove it but couldn’t. He kept trying to direct my hand to where it was. I ended up saying, “You know, it doesn’t matter. I’m just going back up stairs.” He didn’t care. It bothered him enough that he had to come over and remove it himself (it turned out to be a white feather from the throw pillow I had been lying on). Then I went to the counter to pay. The guy at the counter said, “Long time no see.” I laughed and said, “I was here yesterday!” He laughed along with me.
My parents got to know a lot of the people who work in the building and at the 7-11 before they left. My parents are generally friendly and sometimes overly chatty people. I often heard them say things like, “This is my daughter. She just moved here. We’re helping her move in then we’re going back to California. Take care of her for us after we leave!”
I think maybe the 7-11 people really took that to heart.
posted by Follow the Frog at 8:03 PM
3 Comments:
7-11s are big in Thailand too. They call it simply "the 7." Like, "Let's go to the 7."
OMG ex-Roomie! I just discovered the beauty of 7-11 coffee as well.How funny (and random)! My coworker was fiending for a coffee fix and we had a short break @ work so we quickly dashed over to "the 7." The coffee was de-li-cio-so and the employees SO NICE! My coworker is actually homies w/ the guy that was working that day and she's even trying to get his daughter into our school.
unfortunately, they have discontinued French Roast just last week.
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