Dear Seven Eleven Man,
Ok. So I know that we've basically become best friends because of our daily interactions. I slide in and try to be nonchalant about that fact that I'm back. again. You say, "Hello! How are you!" in your most chipper customer service voice. I smile and say something along the lines of. "great! peachy! wonderful!" and then you charge me one oh eight for my fountain drink.
Our relationship was going great.
I knew you were starting to figure me out. I could read the signs you know. First it started with the subtle hints ("Is this a refill?") but over time the cues were more and more obvious ("Do you have our 7/11 app? You should definitely get it!"). I knew. I'm telling you. I knew you were on to me.
But today, you pinned me down.
Our usual interaction was going as to be expected.
"It's going to be one oh eight", you said.
I slid you the cash and smiled as you made some coy joke about something I didn't really understand.
And then it happened.
"What's your name by the way? I see you in here all the time"
dang it.
On the plus, Seven Eleven Man, you have helped me realized that I have an unhealthy appetite for your dollar Diet Cokes.
But I mean, I can't stop now right? We are on a first name basis.
Sincerely,
That one tall girl with the long blonde hair.
(Or I guess now you know, Kaitlyn)
