Today on “I Give Up,” I’m going to take this blogging opportunity (blogportunity?) to vent my spleen about convenience stores.  For example, the Mobil Station down the street from where I work.  There are always about twelve people working there, but only one is ever on the register.  There’s always some guy on the phone, and some guy counting candy bars, and somebody reading the labels of Pringles containers, and maybe two people dicking around with the lotto machine…sometimes one guy who just walks very purposefully from the back of the store to the front and back again… But there’s only ever one guy who’s handling the register, with a line of customers out the front door, and all I want are my delicious goddamn cigarettes! Also, whenever I want a hot dog, there are no hot dog buns!

Is it too much to ask that candy-bar-counting-guy opens up one of the other three registers so I can give them my money for goods and services?  Or that phone guy could take time out from his silly retard conversation that apparently goes on all day to put some motherfucking hot dog buns in the motherfucking hot dog bun cabinet or whatever?

Also, to any convenience store employee who’s talking on the phone while I’m trying to buy something: Fuh-huh-huh-huh-huck YOU.

Whew.  Don’t really know where that came from.  I haven’t even been to a convenience store in like a week.

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