I was chillin out in front of the 7-11.
I never considered myself the hangin at the 7-11 type. I might be the buy some gas at the 7-11 type. Or once in a blue moon the buy a slurpee at the 7-11 type. But I was pretty firmly the sneer at people who hang out in front of the 7-11 type. No longer.
See, what happened was this. My truck was making this noise. Kinda a chugga-chugga-whoosha-chugga noise. That's been going on for about a week. I didn't panic over it, but there was no denying a noise happening. So I was driving home from the chiropractor, thinking I would be home and on my couch early, and boy was I tired so that sounded great. I stopped at a light. First, my a/c went out, which in Florida in the summer is enough to make you want to ditch the car and hitchhike right there. I called my friend Kel, and as I was talking to her, black stinky smoke started coming out from under the hood. She said to pull over and she would send her hubby with the tow truck, so I did what seemed logical, I pulled into the 7-11.
Firstly, I was semi-mortified to be pulling into the station with my truck apparently ablaze and so so smelly. I jumped out and tried to pretend like it was not mine. There were some stares from the other people hangin out in front of the 7-11. Shit shit shit. I went in the store. I walked around. The lady at the counter (previously a hanger outer) asked me was that my truck because boy it was sure smelling like something was wrong. I admitted it was mine and told her a tow truck was on the way. "Good," she said, "because that thing really smells." Joy.
I went back outside. Here is where the chillin began. I chilled for a while, tried to act natural, leaned against the propane exchange cage. Considered what I would say if the parents of someone in my class showed up. Avoided eye contact. But it just was not working for me. Suddenly I realized: I am kickin back in front of the 7-11. And I'm not even doing it right. Where is my 40 oz. and Camel Light? What is wrong with me?
So I went back in. And it occurred to me that I CAN'T have a Mad Dog and a smoke, I am pregnant. Although pregnant, smoking, and chillin at the 7-11 would have won the award. So I looked around for an alternative: beef jerky and a mountain dew? pre-packaged bake good and coffee? doritos and slurpee? Nothing felt right. I reluctantly grabbed a bottle of water and some chips. Boring. But you can't hang empty handed.
Back outside, I was really getting into it. I said "Whatsup" to everyone walking up, including the police officers. I sat down on the curb and looked at the pieces hanging under my car that weren't there before. And finally, I took a picture of myself:
Because odds of me ever kickin back in front of the 7-11 again are pretty low.
The story has a happy ending: Kel's hubby arrived with his tow truck (he may as well have ridden in on a white horse) and Kel took me home. But I promise, I will never sneer at those who are hanging out in front of the 7-11 again. They may just be a pregnant Kindergarten teacher who happens to like beef jerky who is just having "one of those days."