Electric blue Slurpees. Aisles filled with packaged candies. Soft pretzels lazily spinning under a heat lamp. These are my earliest and fondest memories of convenience store food. I can still picture my neighborhood 7-Eleven with its distinct orange and green sign, dim fluorescent lighting and linoleum floor. I even remember the storefront curb where I’d sit slurping, getting brain freeze. Quality? Freshness? Never entered my mind. I went there purely out of convenience — it was ...
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