My Relationship with 7-11 and How It's Destroying My Life

Oh, 7-11.

We have a love affair that can't be put into words.

Going to get a Slurpee in the summer growing up was a rare, rare treat. Your services in providing caffeine in so many different vessels through so many different liquids throughout my college years and the trips back and forth across campus both alone and with friends are memories and debts that I can never put a value on beyond 'priceless.'

But after graduating and moving on to the "adult" and "real" world, I thought our young, impetuous fling of fun and convenience had run its course. But, every time I went to Seattle to visit friends, go out for beers, go to Mariners and Sounders games, and stayed out past two or had a long drive or long ferry ride home or needed to sober up for an hour or two, you were always there. In fact, you still are. There are at least 8 of you, always open, never judging me all within a 10-mile radius of Seattle. And so it continues.s campus at all times of day and night with friends was and is an indelible debt and memory for which I will always be eternally grateful.

But again, such a relationship doesn't run deep; I use you and you use me. You're on that side of the water; I'm on this side of the water. Our rendezvous in Seattle are random and they don't last long. There's no commitment and no guilt; we have an understanding.

But then you...you...you bitch! You had to go and open TWO new locations within two miles of my home and work. You used our past that I thought was special but with no strings attached and you used what you know about me against me! You know I'm a procrastinator. You know that I stay up late and get up early. You know that I don't like making coffee in the morning despite it's simplicity and financial savings. You know I never grocery shop more than 1-2 days in advance so I hardly ever have breakfast or lunch ready for the day. You took our special connection and you have made me into your despondent whore. I may have been your whore before, but it was cheap and inconsequential, or so I thought. And now it's...come to this.

It's 3am, again, and I'm getting up 4 hours early to go in to work to finish some things, but I need coffee and caffeine and food for later in the day. No espresso stands are open this early. The 24-hour Safeway is no longer open 24 hours but now opens at 6am.

As a way of hating myself even more and publicly revealing how you've ruined my life and as a way of avoiding going to work yet and having to see you one minute sooner than I have to, below are my...my sins.

1 Month Tally:

$6.17

$10.27

$6.05

$15.73

$12.19

$11.28

$4.01

$8.53

$2.05

$4.37

$9.94

$4.22

$6.56

$1.84

Sadly, these are all separate trips, and this only reflects debit card records from a single month; there were at least several occasions where I used cash.

The evidence is damning - I'm left with no defense.

Applied Newspaper Delivery Psychology

In my lot of papers to be delivered, I am given 4-5 extra papers every day, which are for if a paper gets damaged, ripped, wet, etc. If we end up with extra (or damaged or whatever) papers, we are free to do with those as we please. Usually, this simply means putting some in the recycling bin at the main newspaper office every day.

Throughout the area I have been delivering newspapers in, there has been construction work going on for, well, ever since I started delivering papers about a month ago. This construction work usually consists of nothing more than a narrowing of a two-lane road to one lane, which in the very rural area I deliver to, almost never causes any kind of slowdowns.

Linking the above two paragraphs together: every once in a while, when I'm out delivering and I go by the construction zone, I will give a paper to one of the sign holder workers. I do this for a few reasons: 

(1) it must suck to stand out in the freezing weather holding a sign all day, (2) it means less garbage for me to take out of my car, and (3) it feels like a nice thing to do, and they are always very happy to get a paper.

Now, I've always had a few rules for myself when it comes to this:

(1) Even though there are 4-5 workers on the site every day, only ONE worker gets a paper. This is because (a) they can share a paper, and (b) if only one worker gets one, it makes them feel special, lucky, fortunate, etc. Reason: if everybody gets a free paper, it cheapens it and they will be less grateful for the free paper.

(2) The papers are NOT handed out every day, or on a regular schedule. Maybe 1-2 times a week do I give out a free paper, on random days. Reason: I do not want to foster an expectation of a free paper. If it is expected, it is less rewarding.

(3) I try to rotate the worker that I actually give the paper to. Reason: I don't want to seem like I'm favoring any one in particular, and I want to gain favor with all the different workers.

Last week, all my currying of favor paid off. The construction zone was occupying both lanes of the road. Two cars were waiting in line while the sign holder had his "Slow/Stop" sign facing the "Stop" side. Then I pulled into the line. The worker, seeing me, quickly went over one of the construction trucks blocking one of the lanes, and told him to move. The truck did, and the cars, including myself, moved on.  On my way by, the sign holder smiled at me and gave a friendly nod.

I have NEVER in the past seen a worker actually go to another construction worker to ask him to move out of the way for cars. Usually, it's more of a "You can wait indefinitely for all I care" attitude.

Whether it actually was or not, I chalk this up to an act of reciprocation of kindness towards me for the simple, small act of giving out free newspapers to cold, bored people.

What I asked for for Christmas

For Christmas, my one big wish was for Gene Wilder to make a new movie. It didn't happen.

Cashing in on Class Action

About 6 months ago, I received a letter in the mail that informed me that I was eligible to receive a payment from a class action lawsuit filed against eBay. Apparently, there was a period of time in which their system was glitchy and overcharging on fees for items sold in the auto parts section of its website. Because I had sold quite a few auto parts in the past few years, this made me eligible for a payout. In order to receive this, I didn't have to do anything (although if I wanted to opt out, I did have to inform them).

"Well," I thought, "sure I guess I'll stay in the lawsuit if it gets me some overcharges back." However, because I haven't really sold THAT much, and I hadn't noticed any grossly-expensive fees, I figured the payment would be very small, MAYBE $5 at the most.

Yesterday, via First Class U.S. mail, I received my check, pictured below:

In case you can't read it, that check is for 17¢. Or "Zero and 17/100 Dollars".

Cha-ching!

The Tree of Dollars

Today I went to the Dollar Tree. I wasn't planning on making a blog post out of it, but this trip just had too much good stuff not to. Starting in the food section...

Yes, that is Larry the Cable Guy chicken batter. You see, food at the Dollar Tree consists of two basic types: cheap stuff that's there all the time, and discontinued stuff that wasn't originally intended to be this cheap, but was such an epic failure in the "real" retail world that it was passed down the ranks to the Dollar Tree. Clearly, the real winners are the consumers, who get to eat Larry the Cable Guy batter for just $1. 

Then there's the meats. Super-processed meats are always questionable, Dollar Tree super-processed meats are SUPER questionable. They're not all terrible, though. Brian used to enjoy buying these pepperonis at the Dollar Tree here in Ellensburg:

and I admit, they are tasty. AND they don't make you feel sick! (Always a very real point when discussing the deliciousness of Dollar Tree food: "I really liked it, AND I didn't get sick!"). There are some things, though, that simply should not be tried...

That, right there, is a $1 3.5 oz "rib eye steak". I have not, and will never, buy or eat one of these. This is a Dollar Tree regular, which means its quality is genuinely abysmal, and the back...

... just tells the whole story. No thank you. That's about as appetizing as a dog turd.

And speaking of turds...

Another popular Dollar Tree item is rejected/discontinued energy drinks. "Red Rain" is the newest entry into the Dollar Tree market. Making a successful energy drink is apparently a delicate balance of a good name combined with good taste. With Red Rain, you get both a bad name AND bad taste. If you're thinking, "Ewww, an energy drink named Red Rain? That sounds like a drink that will make me rain down red on my toilet bowl!" then you're thinking correctly. Red Rain's terrible name was probably not intentionally, but was unfortunately indicative of the terrible, burning diarrhea that it causes. 

Luckily, though, the Dollar Tree is also here to help...

The answer is yes. That is a menthol relief STICK. Like deodorant, only more cooling and pain-relieving, apparently. It says it's "Quick and easy! For soothing relief." Maybe it was meant to alleviate the pain of your ass after the brimstone volley rained down by Red Rain.

And because it's Halloween, the Dollar Tree has it's usual selection of ghastly (no, really, they taste terrible) candies...

 Those "Lightning Skulls" look suspiciously like Darth Vader. That "WARNING" on the bag is probably something about not feeding the LED light in the tongs to your child. And speaking of children...

 That's right. The magic, the madness, the WHOLE FREAKING STORY. For $1. Apparently this book has simply not captured the hearts and minds of, well, anyone...

Yes, Target.com apparently "Bookmarked" it to make it a bargain 30% off of the publisher's list price. But that wasn't enough. It had to go lower. And lower. Until eventually, Target said, "Hey, Dollar Tree! If we sell them to you for 50¢ each, will you buy 10,000,000,000 un-sellable Michael Jackson books from us?" The answer from the Dollar Tree was obviously, "Yes, let us show you the power of low prices for garbage products."

And finally...

:

Miniature snow-globes! They're not particularly nice, and I can't think of anyone who would actually like these, BUT they do seem to be the most economically-feasible (if not justifiable) way of fulfilling my lifelong dream of smashing a snow-globe.

Yes, trips to the Dollar Tree are always fulfilling, exciting, terrifying, and rewarding adventures.

Hey, you're "blocking" my view!

Today I noticed this sign on a door just outside the psychology building on the CWU campus:

Now, clearly this sign is merely saying "Do not block doorway", but it's fun to think about other possible intentions:
"Do not build a Lego fortress in front of this door"
"Do not hold neighborhood parties in front of this door"
"Do not pretend to block this door"
"Do not deny this door any points"
"Don't mess with Mr. Doorway. Not even sarcastically."

Correction: your correction is INcorrect

So a couple days ago I got the joy of sitting down with the final draft of my group's research proposal paper. I wrote the majority of the paper myself, and I have to say, it's pretty good. Very good, actually. Anyhow, going over the paper with the other group members (1 other graduate student, 1 male undergraduate, and 1 female undergraduate), I got to experience the joy of hearing the female undergraduate's "helpful" suggestions.

It wouldn't have been so bad if she was willing to listen to my explanations for why she was completely, utterly, and horribly wrong in 95% of the "corrections" she suggested, but unfortunately, she was insistent that she WAS right, despite the mammoth differences between her own and my credentials.

At first, I tried to explain why her "corrections" in fact made the sentences/paragraphs/words more INcorrect. Then, I gave up. She clearly didn't understand a word of what I was saying. So I just started flat out rejecting her ridiculous corrections, which led her to sulk and (seriously) ask me "Are you an English major or something?" as if my explanations for why she was wrong would ONLY be valid if I was an English major.

What. An. Annoying. eh, Person.

I was proud of myself though. Despite seething at her stupidity and impudence, I never broke down and brutally expressed the harsh reality of the situation:
"Look, I'm sorry, if we disagree on something, we're going with my opinion. Why? Let's start with the obvious: I am a graduate student, you are an undergraduate. Not enough? OK, we'll move on to information gleaned about you from conversations: you have a 1.9 GPA (mine is roughly twice that), you are taking this class for the second time (having failed it the first), and you scored 10 points lower than me on that 40-point test in this class last week."

Again, could have said, but didn't.  I am a saint.