Welcome to my ramblings on the lovely world of the convenience store. I have learned a lot in my first week at the c-store. Some of these learnings include:
- Way too many 18 to 24 year olds smoke. Seriously people, it's crazy.
- Swisher Sweets come in the same flavors as kool-aid and are VERY popular. Evidently they make another smokable treat more tasty.
- Prozac and Zoloft should never be combined.
- Male c-store workers have a high sperm count. This is purely an observation that I have made based on the number of children.
- Evidently hanging out at your place of employment, when you're not working, is extremely cool these days.
- There are overly creepy people regardless of the location.
It's this final bullet that I'm going to focus on for this, my first post. Last night we had two particularly odd individuals.
The first, who we'll call The Stare'er. He checked lottery tickets and got a drink. Made some stupid comments about my dazzling smile, paid for his purchase and left. Normal enough right? WRONG. He then proceeded to sit in his car and stare into the store for 20 minutes.
Just sitting there.
Drinking his 44oz Dr. Pepper.
So, after The Stare'er (I found out he is a regular and I am not special...Yeah!) left, we encountered creepy guy number 2 — the shopper.
Now, we have a fairly small store. Three aisles, a fountain area and the requsite drink coolers. One would think that it doesn't take long to find what you want right? Wrong.
The Shopper came in as a vision in beige -- beige hair, beige skin that may not have seen the sun in years, beige plaid shirt, kakhi/beige shorts and tan flipflops, carrying his own clear refill cup. We'll call it understated. He then spends almost five minutes at the fountain...filling and drinking, filling and drinking...until he determines that he is ready for the next step in his trip — SHOPPING. For the next 15 minutes he wandered around the store looking for that perfect purchase. Silently.
Beef jerky? Of course not.
Tampons? Not today.
Cases of soda? Don't be silly!
Then, he spotted it...his precious. One. Single. Jolly Rancher.
The Shopper then proceeded to whisper at me and smile that, I have a batch of Jonestown kool-aid at home with your name on it smile, and shuffle out the door.
These are your neighbors folks. Right here in the "good" part of the Jo.
More stories will follow. I've got a couple of days off for my feet to go back to human size and not resemble a hobbit. Let me know what you think of my ramblings.