The 7-Eleven Twitter pigeon (or whatever their Twitter guardian is) replied to my message and we engaged in a friendly back and forth. I was encouraged to send an email to 7-Eleven about my concerns. Here is the email I have written and sent to 7-Eleven. I have not altered this email in anyway. It is a copy and paste of what I wrote.
Hi Electronic Mail Wing Of Slurpee.ca,
I made a comment on Twitter about the poor quality of Slurpees in Toronto and the 7-Eleven SpokesTwitter recommended I contact you. I am taking the SpokesTwitter up on its offer.
I’ve had multiple Slurpees from multiple 7-Eleven locations in Toronto and they’ve all tasted terrible. It’s like both the sweetness and soul of the beverage was tortured and extracted, leaving me with an icy cup of despair. I’ve had Slurpees in Winnipeg, Brandon, Dauphin, Regina, Saskatoon, Rosetown, Moose Jaw, Swift Current, Medicine Hat, Lethbridge, Calgary, Edmonton and Burnaby and they’ve all tasted relatively the same. By that I mean, they tasted good. I’ve purchased $20 in Slurpees in Toronto at multiple stores and I’ve thrown them all out minutes after leaving the store. By that I mean, those Slurpees did not taste good. Is there a difference in the composition of Slurpees in Ontario? Did I just go to the wrong stores at the wrong times? Am I being punished for something I did in a previous life? Please let me know what I’ve done wrong.
I’ve had a wonderful romance with Slurpee for years. That’s why I would never want to run off with a hussy like Icee or Froster. Please help repair this relationship and let me know what I need to do as a partner to get back to the world of delicious Slurpees and escape this Hell of polar vomit.
Real Talk: Each Slurpee tasted like Pegasus crib death. It was super gross.
I hope to have an update on my progress in the future.
Update: I got off the phone with the National Category Manager of 7-Eleven. It seems like there’s going to be service checks, follow-ups and the like. It’s progress, but I must remain vigilant. Like an overcaffeinated justice lynx.
An Excerpt From My Upcoming Bestseller "Xlybok: The First Cyborg President"
The More The Cybergame Changes, The More It Stays The Cybersame
As they walked through the streets of Super Detroit, President Johnny Xlybok could sense that his Secret Service Agent was feeling uneasy.
"What’s wrong Baptiste? Don’t you trust your President?"
"It’s not you I don’t trust, sir. It’s this crazy mixed up world I don’t trust. And I sure as hell don’t trust it at 3AM in the raygun crime capital of the country."
Agent Aaron Baptiste was right to be concerned. Although the President had a sterling approval rating in both the human and cyborg community, the wounds of Civil War 2.0 had not yet healed. Even in the President’s hometown there were places where “Hail To The Cyberchief (Cyber Motown Remix)” wasn’t as popular as “I Ain’t A Voter, I’m A Cyborg Choker”.
"Here we are. Looks beautiful, doesn’t it?" beamed the President. Xlybok’s smile went from antenna ear to antenna ear. It was the MegaGym where he played cyberball as a plucky teen and won the quadrant championship for his beloved St. Michael’s Learning Facility 6. Xlybok lifted his arm and shot the doors open with his wrist-saddled door opening beam. The President activated his boot wheels and entered the facility with Agent Baptiste trailing behind him.
The Learning Facility 6 MegaGym looked a bit different than it did when the observation cubes were packed to see the quadrant’s top cyberball captain with “Xlybok <34>” on the back of his sportshield. This dusty building was quiet tonight, but Xlybok could still hear the static and beeps of the capacity crowd chanting his binary. It was in this MegaGym that Xlybok became a leader. Who would have guessed that being a master of the disc rotation would actually parallel grasping werewolf tax legislation.
"Look Baptiste, that’s where I scored my first cybergoal. And in that cube sat my first cybergirlfriend. Ha! I had my first cybersex under those cyberbleachers. She had a stick of cybergum after, I had a cybercigarette. Those were some exciting cybertimes. End nostalgia transmission."
This was a different side of President Xlybok, one Agent Baptiste had never seen before. Xlybok’s public persona was always one of a schmoozer and subterranean military captain, but this trip to the MegaGym shone a light on the cyborgmanity circulating through the chestplate of the being that was known as “Daddy” in the private quarters of The Chrome House. Johnny Xlybok was a man-machine fueled by something noble and good and American and…
"Baptiste, I accidentally killed a Neo Soviet prostitute again. I need you to bury his body underneath this MegaGym."
…an insatiable need to kill male prostitutes from enemy countries.