One of my favorite things to do after a ride on a hot, sticky day such as today is to duck into a 7-11 for a Slurpee on my way home.
My favorite stop has always been the 7-11 on Jerusalem Avenue in Seaford, right where you get off the exit from 135, heading east toward Massapequa.
As I said, today was a hot, sticky day. Even though it is only Memorial Day, it was a hot, sticky day; it felt about 90, especially while sitting on Route 107 heading south to the expressway. Fumes from the SUVs, with their little drips of air-conditioner condensation blowing back, had the combined effect of annoying and cooling me at the same time.
I gave up on the Long Island Expressway , and took the Jericho Turnpike ramp instead; the streets were blissfully empty, everyone busily setting a new Jones Beach record for the moment.
I jumped onto 135 and gratefully realized that was pretty clear too; I took it up to around 75 and relaxed, cruising south toward home. About the time I passed the Hempstead Turnpike exit, sweat drying on my face, I thought of my traditional post-ride Slurpee. Pulling off my exit, I parked in the 7-11 parking lot and noticed the big sign in front: Under New Management.
Now, I had no idea the previous owners were going anywhere; many was the time I ended an upstate run or even just an Ocean Parkway run with some friendly banter about my bike and my ride with the 7-11 guy, whose name I never knew, and a half-Coke, half sugar-free Lemonade Slurpee, and I felt a twinge of regret.
They had owned the 7-11 for at least twelve years, and I wondered why they had decided to pack it in.
Ah well, I thought to myself, life goes on; and I went in for my blast of AC and my Slurpee. Up until I started vaping (using electronic cigarettes) a little over a year ago, my Slurpee ritual also included a smoke break, often joined by Mr. 7-11, during which my day's travels, a tally of the unbelievable number of idiots on the road and the weather were discussed in about 15 minutes.
The first thing I noticed upon entering the store was that there was no 'blast' of AC to greet me. Now as I said, it was an unseasonably hot and sticky day, and I'm sure that even a temperature of 75 would have felt like a blast at that point, but nope-no blast, more like a slight subtle cooling, like the drop one feels when opening the windows in a car. The guy behind the counter was a gold-laden Mediterranean man wearing a soccer shirt a couple of sizes too small and some hardcore cologne; he had a hundred yard stare that went on for miles and didn't seem to notice the temperature, the emptiness of his store or much of anything. I went back to the Slurpee machine, which was the cleanest I had ever seen it. Usually, a steady parade of Little Leaguers and sulky teenagers left a sticky trail between the machine and the register, the teenagers doubling back to 'top off' after a couple of brain-freezing gulps. I set my cup under the Coke spigot and prepared myself for the blast of icy Slurpee that would fill my entire cup in one shot if I wasn't careful. I pulled gently on the spigot to release the frosty mix of Coke, ice and whatever else they put in there to make it Slurpee-like, and was rewarded with a dribble of what looked like Coke soup. I pulled harder, and only succeeded in getting more of the same. Figuring it wasn't ready, I moved over to the Crystal Light and tried again; same dribbly mess.
I informed the Mediterranean man that there was something wrong with the machine, to which he responded, "no, Miss, that's how they make it now."
I said, "Really? That's how they make Slurpees now? What, did they change the ingredients? Are you kidding me?" Now, 7-11 has been the sole distributor of Slurpee since 1967, when they bought the licensing rights to the stuff from Icee. They have been making it exactly the same way for 45 years, and I can hardly believe that suddenly, in the past year, my beloved Slurpee has been reduced to the the soggy mess in my cup. If you've ever frozen a cup of soda, then taken it out and left it on the counter for a couple of hours, you know what my Slurpee looked like.
Figuring the guy was having some operating issues, I paid for the mess since it was, after all, colder than the store and tried for a conversation with the new owner. I commented on the unseasonable temperature, to which he responded, "you ride that motorcycle? I would never let my wife ride a motorcycle."
I responded, "So they told you that this was the way the Slurpees are made now? They must think you're pretty stupid to believe that, right?" He looked at me, not knowing whether to agree with me, that yes, they thought he was stupid; or to assert that there was nothing wrong with the machine and women don't belong on motorcycles. Satisfied, I paid for my mess of a Slurpee and stood outside vaping and cooling down.
I really miss that guy who used to own the 7-11. His English wasn't that great, but he loved motorcycles, loved hearing my stories, always blasted the AC and hardly ever cleaned the trail from the Slurpee machine out the door.
Good luck, Mr. 7-11 guy; the people of Seaford miss you already.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Friday, February 19, 2010
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