When Davis was three, maybe four, he called our neighborhood convenience store the "bee knits" store. We don't keep sodas in our house as a general rule, but once in a while Chris would go to the convenience store to grab a Diet Dr. Pepper. The boys would pile into the Suburban with him and each would be allowed to spend $1. It was a great lesson in decision making and gave tremendous insight into how each of our children's minds worked. I usually sat out during these sordid sojourns, consequently missing out on all of the amazing aspects of the convenience store experience.
My tank was empty today and I stopped at a bee knits store to get some gas and coffee. As I stood in line, waiting to pay, I was overwhelmed by the sheer magnificence that IS the convenience store.
Granted, I have been into some despicable, horrible places which should be ashamed to open their doors to the public, but this spot did not fall into that category.
As I scanned the store, I was flooded with the urge to completely let loose and explore every wanton desire my heart experienced. My senses were on overload, as was my impulse control.
The convenience store holds just about every sinful item I've ever dreamed of purchasing, save those random, extravagances like a red Kitchen Aid mixer or matching Louis Vuitton luggage.
Five minutes in a convenience store and I could buy a 20 oz. Big Red, a king size Butterfinger, some trashy tabloid like Us Weekly, banana scented condoms, a Slim Jim, and some sort of fizzy hangover concoction which would probably taste icky whether or not I'd hit the bottle the night before.
Another thing I love about the convenience store is that it caters to all types, all socio-economic levels. The businessman in his BMW needs to top of his tank just like the air conditioner repair guy in his beat up work van. Both can converge inside the smoke tinged, plastic, shrink wrapped, day old coffee smelling store to purchase their gas and whatever little tidbit catches their fancy.
When I was a child, my family would stop at roadside convenience stores to fill up with gas and we were allowed to pick out treats for a snack on the road. The thought of that indulgence still stands out in my mind.
Today, standing in line to check out at that convenience store, it felt like the closest thing to heaven on earth I've experienced in a long time. I wanted to just make time stand still and peruse every aisle, gingerly examining every over priced, mini packaged, unnecessary item on the cold, metal shelves.
Lately, it's the little things. Today, the bee knits store was truly the bees knees
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