Lost Journal

Humor Column
by Tim Mollen
August 25, 2005

Working at the Convenience Store Blues

Journal Entry:  June 15, 1989 (age 20)

I’m saving up for a semester in London, and my job at Friendly’s isn’t paying enough to meet my goal.  So today, I started a second job at the Busy Bee convenience store on Floral Avenue.  The first instruction I was given by my new manager sent a chill down my spine.  He said, “Go in the back and help yourself to a smock.”

A smock?  I haven’t worn a smock since my second-grade finger-painting class.  But I dutifully went back to the stockroom and picked out the least fluorescent orange smock I could find.  I examined the tag inside the smock’s collar for some indication as to why this particular type of uniform was prescribed.  Perhaps orange nylon is Slurpee-retardant, I thought.  Unenlightened, I returned to the side of my fearless leader.  He gave me an introductory tour of the store, during which I noted several things.

The first thing I noticed was the magazine rack, which contained a profusion of gun-related periodicals.  My main apprehension about working at a convenience store was that I would be the victim of an armed robbery.  The fact that we were selling Guns & Ammo magazine, seemed to me, well, a bit too customer-friendly.  This month’s cover story was about “Saturday Night Specials”; the cheap, mass-produced guns that are most frequently used to knock over convenience stores.  My manager was unamused when I asked if it would be helpful for me to walk back and forth behind the counter, making a “ding” sound each time I switched direction.

Then I noticed some unusual products I had never seen before.  The first was an item called “Chocka-Ca-Ca!”  It took a few, long moments of staring at the package for the nature of this product to sink in.  It was a diaper.  Filled with chocolate.  I cringed at the thought that state-of-the-art research had found a market niche for this product in Johnson City.

Directly next to the Chocka-Ca-Ca! was a vase filled with artificial red roses.  Further examination proved that these were no ordinary artificial roses.  No sir – not at the Busy Bee!  These were “HOT red, French-cut, underwear roses!”  By prominently displaying these two classy items near the front counter, we were reminding our customers that nothing starts off a first date better than chocolate and flowers.  But for discerning shoppers who know that frequent dating can rack up a lot of unsecured debt, these products offer a guarantee that no second date will be forthcoming.

I took my place behind the counter, and began to work my magic with the customers.  “Hello, sir.  That was $10 on pump number 2, right?  Would you like a Do-It-Yourself Felony Guide with that?  How about some panties and a diaper?  You know – for the little lady.”  If only I were working on commission.

© 2005 Tim Mollen

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