Sept-Onze

I appreciate that the guys at my local 7-11 are nice to me, but I don't feel like chatting when I come in there in mismatched clothes, f*ck-me eye-makeup, and a hat at 9am looking for hangover breakfastfoods, you know? That said, they are very nice guys and I'm happy, I suppose, to be noticed among the multitudes in the city, you know? But like, man, the sound of ants walking makes my head pound. I almost threw up from just making my body vertical instead of horizontal. Just give me the G2 and box of pasta and let me go.

(Yes, I occasionally make pasta when I'm hung over. In the morning and everything. It's weird, I know. Also, this hasn't happened recently; I started this post several months ago, and since I've moved, I miss my old 7-11 guys. I doubt the owner of my new one would let me leave with my purchases when I forgot my credit card and tell me just to come by when I can to pay for it!)