h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

When I was living in Mid-Michigan as a child, there were only two 7-11 stores within any kind of acceptable driving distance of my home. One was in a part of town that Mom informed me was probably not best for us to get to too often, and the other was across the river in the very upscale part of town, where we had relatives and friends. This also happened to be the part of town where our dentist and family physician had their offices, which made the idea of doctors visits a bit less intimidating, knowing we would be making a visit to 7-11 "if we were good." But who wants a Slurpee after getting a tooth drilled?

There was a period of time when Slurpees were sold in a reusable plastic cup with a superhero on it, with their "bio" on the back - it was at that time that special trips to the 7-11 became the incentive for getting chores done or a host of other innocent childhood bribes. I was probably obsessed with getting every cup available, and over the months I amassed the complete collection, both Marvel and DC characters. And I am proud to say after 20-plus years that I still have all of the cups except one - "The Thing" from The Fantastic Four suffered a terrible dishwasher incident at the hands of my sister. That created a rift that lasted for quite some time.

The point being, for me - 7-11's were a magical, special place back then, kind of like how you feel as a kid being driven cross country on a family summer vacaion and seeing the turquoise roof of a Stuckee's and trying to convince your father that you HAD to have a pecan log, and you had to have it right now. When I moved to Ohio for college, I couldn't believe how many 7-11's there were in Columbus at the time. You were literally never more than 10 or 15 blocks from a 7-11 at any point in town. During my first few years of college, 7-11 pretty much served as my grocery store, over-the-counter-pharmacy, cafeteria, and late night munchie pit stop. Their main competition there was Stop-N-Go, who had a notorious reputation for being robbed constantly at night, the theory being because they hired senior citizens to work the overnight/graveyard shift.

Over the years, the magical luster of the 7-11 wore off, but wherever I travel, whenever I see a 7-11 sign I always have to grin and think back to how much power the memory holds from childhood. By the time I left Columbus, Ohio, many of the 7-11's had been closed and/or replaced with Circle K stores, which held most of the stand by items but none of the fun. Or maybe it was because I was a man-boy now, instead of just a boy.

Imagine my surprise and glee when I moved to Southern California and found even more 7-11's per capita than I had ever even dreamed possible. Over my years out here, they've again resumed a place of convenience and necessity for me, providing me with my morning coffee and newspaper, destination for weekend beer runs, late night snack fits - you name it. Thanks for being there, Southland Corporation! But watch out for Pink Dot, the delivery service which offers everything you can find at a 7-11 plus fresh deli sandwiches, pastas, salads and more.

I am happy to say that, living in New York City all my life, I have never actually seen that particular chain within the city limits. I tend to dislike such all-purpose convenience stores because they are good at homogenizing all of America to pretty much the same thing. Cape Cod now looks like Honolulu, which looks like Columbus, which looks like Pittsburgh. When is our super-consumer society going to see that a 7-11 every 10 blocks, or a McDonald's within walking distance wherever you are (the Champ de L'ysee in Paris has TWO McD's) is not going to make any point in the country stand out as original?