I don't ask much of 7-Eleven. Just provide me with some frozen drink after I'm done "playing basketball" at Kennedy.* Frozen grape drink, frozen apple drink... it's delicious.
*: My exhausted and ineffective flailing is a pretty sorry excuse for playing basketball. If Dr. Naismith were alive, I think I'd make him very sad. Crying himself to sleep every night because I murdered his sport.
I had a manufacturer's coupon for a free 20 oz Coke Zero (courtesy of mycokerewards.com), so it seemed as good a time as any to redeem it. (Did you know Safeway doesn't sell 20 oz bottles of Coke Zero, except by the six-pack?) And having just "played basketball" I wanted a Slurpee too.**
**: Slurpees are a lot like sports drinks, in that they replenish what you lose through sweat. Except that they only provide sugar, water, and color.
I walk in, and right away the 7-Eleven is not endearing itself to me. The Slurpee machine has an "out of order" handwritten sign over one of the flavors. I check what flavors there are. All the flavor signs are mismatched or incorrect; the colors make this obvious. Worse, a second unlabeled spout is evidently out of order. Awesome. That's like the triple crown of fail.
I take a big 40 oz cup and fill it with green and red. I'm hoping it'll turn out to be frozen apple drink and frozen cherry drink, but it's really a crapshoot. I pick up a 20 oz Coke Zero ($1.90***) from the refrigerator.
***: Seriously? $1.90, presumably $1.90 plus tax and CRV? Is it made from glacier ice, aquarino, and unicorn tears? Bottled by leprechaun royalty, personally inspected by a direct descendant of John Pemberton, and shipped via hippogryph?
I bring both items to the counter and hand the surly cashier the coupon. He scrutinizes the coupon, scans both items and the coupon, and then...
Cashier: Four fifteen.
Kevin C: That can't be right.
Cashier: Four fifteen!
Kevin C: (holding up the Slurpee) _This_ is four fifteen?
Cashier: Four fifteen!!
Verbal communication having failed, I point at the coupon, which now sits before him on the counter. He reads the coupon aloud to himself. "One... free... 20 ounce... Coke Zero." I point at the 20 oz Coke Zero. He puzzles over the situation, because apparently this is somewhere between brain surgery and rocket science in terms of complexity. Eventually he pokes around at the register and subtracts the cost of the soda. The new total is two bucks and change.
Cashier: (angrily, holding up the coupon) Where did you get this?!
Kevin C: mycokerewards.com.
Cashier: (speaking another language, presumably cursing me out)
As I put away my change and wait for my friends who are in line, another customer reports a different problem.
Customer: (holding up a clear cup with some clear soda) The Diet Coke machine is out of syrup.
Cashier: We have Diet Coke! Over there!
Customer: No, the Diet Coke machine is out of syrup.
Cashier: We have Diet Coke!
Kevin C: (aside, to friends) This is totally one star on yelp.
I should hand out Coke Zero coupons to customers entering, just to stick it to the surly cashier and this turd of a convenience store. read more