It's not that I'm ashamed to say I work at a 7 Eleven, on the contrary, I have long desired to share the same occupation as Apu from the Simpsons.
It was just a little hard to face up to the notion that my college degree has only so far qualified me to rotate quarter pound wieners and microwave corn dogs. That said, if the job involves wieners it's the role I was born to play. In fact, I have that written in bold on my resume.
As far as jobs go, and I have certainly had a lot of them, a career at 7 Eleven is very enjoyable. It has the same casual tone of working in a movie theater, (except without all the butter stains), the fun and quirky characters to be found from working at Disneyland, (without the commuting hassles involved with running into parades), and the benefit of not being managed by a mean old lady who relentlessly demands you feather dust copies of Brokeback Mountain and then two weeks later fires you.
If you can't tell, I'm still harboring some resentment towards my previous brief stint at the local video store.
Swan Island is mostly an industrial area, and as such I am mostly interacting with gentlemen who make their living by lifting heavy objects or driving heavy objects from one location to another. The weekends are surprisingly low pace.
Among the characters I have met so far I was especially engaged by the visitation of one over-weight man who stumbled into the store with his shirt completely open. He devoured three corn dogs while wandering the isles before he finally settled upon his purchase of several malt liquors, two liters of coke, and warming lubrication. I prefer to leave the purpose behind the last purchase a mystery.
Overall, I like the job. I made acquaintances with a duck who liked to sit outside of the store until I thought I would feed him a banana. He didn't like it. Still, it's nice to meet new friends.
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