emma b. says

Wednesday, April 28, 2004

The 7-11 Invasions

There is a nefarious plot afoot. Bright, shiny icky-sicky 7-11's are sprouting like unwelcome mushrooms all over the city.

One such mushroom has sprouted across Claude Lane. Right next to Sammy's liquor store. I fear for Sammy. Sammy is a genial man, paunchy and we could be wildly off the mark but of Mediterranean/ Middle Eastern descent. M. would know. For years we have purchased cigarettes, in various states of inebriation, and have always been well treated my Sammy of the speculative origins.

And now this fluorescent blight. This place of cold humming machines dispensing frozen sugar water to a population already addled by sugar, caffeine and liberal doses of Xanax, this Eyesore!

Totally out of place in downtown San Francisco! What in heaven's name our we becoming? We are being burb-ified, and it must stop.

What are we to do, when we are oh so casually trying to pick up on the Musician, and are distracted by the glare down the alley... our chances our slim enough...

In other news, Emma is going to see the Giants after work. We don't really follow baseball, but we love Pac Bell Park (or whatever phone company they are calling it this week) and we are partial to hot dogs and the really potent bloody marys. Hot dogs! Hot dogs!

(but not the kind that you get at a stupid ass, ugly old 7-11)


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