there’s something about a bag of chips, some candy, and little drink that is healing to my inner 13 year old.
i love the fact that i can get something, or a bunch of tiny something’s. a colorful slurpee that will dye my tongue, potato chips that will stick to my teeth and sugar that will coat my insides, while the lady who has probably worked there ten years calls me sweetie and a guy who’s smoked cigarettes since he was a kid is ordering his usual. i think of the late nights i spent there as a kid and now as an adult i go there before sundown in the middle of winter.
