It's not you, Whip, it's me.
I know this break-up is going to take a lot of going over, so here's the shorts: I don't like walking into a convenient store and feeling like the people working there are looking down on me; the booze is marked up like a madman; the food tastes (surprise!) like it's from a convenient store; the service? There is none.
Now to particulars, like, my drinks. I need less commitment than you are offering, Whip: cheap, fast, get in, get out. (and no, I do not tip at a convenience store--even if you act like I'm a complete inconvenience to you. I almost want to stick up the joint just so they know what it feels like. ["Alright! Now veery slowly, veery calmly, sign this small piece of white paper....hey, Hey! Tip a buck at least: I gotta gun."])
Also, an ancedote: my 2nd favorite beer (sorry, you just can't beat a MF'n Mickey's) is Icehouse, the 5.5% beer brewed by penguins in the Arctic from an old shamu bird recipe and now 97% beak-free (allegedly); what happened was: this beer, through some insane reckoning of karma, was 99 cents for a 2x4 (be still my heart)...yes, that's right, gentle reader, less than 50 cents a can! I immediately bought them out of stock and asked the guy to look in back for any scroungers. No dice. And now? Oh cruel, wanton Fortuna, they've jacked the price up to 1.89 (!!!), much more than the going rate in any state, much less a gun-toting, knuckle-dragging mook of a state like TehXas.
They also do not carry dip (I know, I know, I don't even like it...though I indulge). Living next door in the Brook, I've been here dozens of times, and it's always the same scene, a scene I'm always at a loss to explain to myself; what are they now, hipsters?, scenesters?, speedracers?, podcasts?; whatever that aura is about how much you care about not caring (especially customer service)
I told you, it's me: I don't want to be judged when I buy malt liquor at noon on Saturday, I don't want to be taken for 'ironic' when I ask why the hell you don't carry 4-Loko (and yes, I am partial to a drink that will not respect you in the morning and does not care about your feelings; this isn't one of those 'this one time we drank 4-Lokos,' 'oh yeah, us to, let's talk about it, yuk yuk yuk,' no, just no...I drink it because I'm a slush of a lush and a cheap sonabitxx and it taste like purple Popsicles when I was 8).
So yeah, it's me, and not to hate, so here is some dope stuff about the Whip In:
-they have a dollar 'corking fee' for beer, meaning if you wanna sit down and see whatever abstract awful musicians they have there you can crack an Icehouse 24 for less than a 3 spot
-relative to places that specialize, they do have an impressive selection of wine, though some bottles are marked up just because they are refrigerated (I'm not even kidding), though why someone would buy wine from a convenience store is baffling to me, even though the ol lady, having forgotten a housewarming gift on the way to said party pulled in like a lunatic and out I went, grabbing some crushed grapes for a 15-spot and then giddy up, we're off in 1, 2, 3 minutes. Word.
-uh, that's really it
I don't mean to crack the Whip-In too ragged w/o constructive criticism, so let me here offer some Things That Could Improve This Establishment Immediately:
-at all times a cowboy is present and occupying the first stool at the bar; every time a patron comes in he looks at them and, like from somewhere out of his murky past, says: "I reckon you ain't from around these parts, pard-ner," and tips his hat rakishly
-the homeless dudes that live under the Woodland overpass are allowed to drink for free and panhandle everyone's spare change
-Icehouse is restored to it's noble heritage of being cheap and potent
-another cowboy leans against the wall, one knee elbowed against the door, staring down at the ground; upon completion of a purchase, said cowboy says, "You need a right bit help with that there, ma'am?," regardless of the customers gender
-the music is no longer esoteric, 'out there,' or terrible
Alas, the thing is this: the Whip-In is not a convenience store. Cash Counter across the street is a convenience store. They have a much better beer selection and more reasonable prices (wine, not so much), and when I perused his fine dips he did not have what I wanted; so, praised be to customer service, he asked me what it was I wanted (what a concept!), I told him sans expectations, and he straight busted out a 3-hole binder and looked it up like th-, that! Marked me down. "Anything else you want, we get for you," cuz I understand the dudes predicament; right across the street he's got the trendy (see: soulless) Whip-In, with it's Chronicle Customer Choice Awards (which usually belie better days, though Whip-In has an undeniable run of, like, a million straight?) on Austin's Best Convenience store....at least for most people.
As for me? I'm happier now, seeing someone else from those other side of the tracks. read more