#$^@ 7-Eleven

For the past 5 months or so since I moved to Florida, Iā€™ve worked for 7-Eleven, the famous gas station chain know for its Slurppyā€™s and Go Go Taquitos. When I started working for 7-11, it was a pretty decent job compared to all that wonderful foam factory work I used to do. I enjoyed dealing with customers because most where tourist from out of town, most enjoying a wonderful vacation with their families.

Then shit it the fan at the end of January. Opm and I had a third roommate (whom I will refer to as ā€˜Bobā€™), and it was pretty common for him to spend a week or two at a time at his momā€™s house. I come home from work and opm informs me that the cops came to the apartment looking for Bob. Opm then calls Bobā€™s workplace (where opm used to work before he wrecked his Dodge Stratus) and asked the boss what was going on. Bob hadnā€™t been to work in 3 days, and apparently he was ā€˜wanted for questioningā€™ in regards to a pedophilia charge. Well, being sans one roommate, opm and I were in trouble with the rent money. So I moved in with Piner (of SFL Drift fame), and opm moved back to Pittsburgh with to live with his mom. All of the moving was done rather on the whim and extremely quickly. Along with this move, I transferred to another 7-Eleven store.

Now, this store wasnā€™t in the tourist areaā€™s south of Disney or anything the like, it was in the middle of Kissimmee near St. Cloud, in a working class neighbor hood. My first night working at this new store was complete chaos. I carded so many angry people because Iā€™d never seen them before in my life, and I was completely driven up the wall by how much business this tiny store (it was physically smaller then my last store) got. And I knew the Friday was slower then normal because of the rain that day!

Anyway, Iā€™ve been under this pressure ever since. Every night before work the anxiety of going to work and being down right afraid I would be put in hand cuffs for selling something I shouldnā€™t to a minor kept building and building more. Last night I outright had an anxiety attack just before I was supposed to go to work. I canā€™t handle it anymore! Iā€™ve become so anxious over selling alcohol and tobacco that Iā€™ve finally just snapped. Iā€™m sick of kids that wonā€™t produce their IDā€™s for me simply because they are over the age of 21 and say ā€œI come in here all the time.ā€ None of them seem to understand the law that I need to see their ID until they appear to be over the age of 30! In one situation, I carded a kid, and he proceeded into the menā€™s restroom, took a dump on the floor, and then smashed a garbage can on top of his own shit (and apparently that is PRETTY COMMON)! One girl I worked with told me that kids would put broken glass and such under her car tires! I didnā€™t go to work last night and right now I donā€™t even want to talk to anyone there about it. I canā€™t do it anymore!

I was never able to fully accomplish what needed to be done in one night, the store is understaffed and they donā€™t appear to be hiring anyone else to fill the gaps (other then on first shift)! The quality of the job I do has dropped 10 fold from where it was at my previous storeā€¦ Iā€™m fed up with HAVING to do a sub-standard job and busting my ass to do it.

Iā€™ve had it with this job and working for 7-Eleven!

I told myself that I wouldnā€™t quit unless I had another job lined up, but my feelings of anxiety have taken over my sense of logic. I choose to no longer work for 7-Eleven because I think that is wiser then eventually going to jail for something that would probably be an honest mistake.

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