The 7-Eleven Guy

  by Lindsay Michaelson


Every morning when I pull into

The uneven parking lot

He waves to me through the glass paned window

Inside a smile laced with gold

And a Hi How Are You

Awaits me

He looks intensely into my eyes

As I smile in return

Then turn my back for a minute

And I know he checks out my ass

He waits with anticipation as I

Approach the counter to meet him


Itís not him I want

But the diet coke

Double Gulp