Diamond Shamrock

Oh Diamond Shamrock, how I love thee!
I witnessed ALL of the following things on a recent visit to this, the closest convenience store to my house:
1. A young mother (pushing a toddler in a stroller) purchasing a 40 oz… at 6:45 am.
2. A middle aged man beating his head slowly and repetitively against the screen of the Redbox machine out front. I think he was mumbling to himself. Maybe he was just disappointed that «Miley Cyrus: The Best of Both Worlds Tour» was out of stock.
3. A man wearing a «One of these days, I’m going to get organizized» t-​shirt yelling, full voice, at a dog.
You can’t make this stuff up, people. I stop at this place most mornings (pre-7:00 a.m.) to get a coffee on my way to work, and there is always some deranged cavalcade of seething humanity erupting out of its doors. I’ll say this: I always feel better about my life, my job, and my level of mental health whenever I make my way back to my car.
This store also contains a Subway, which would be kind of nice, if it weren’t staffed by the angriest employees on the planet. Orders are usually taken with a tone that falls somewhere on a spectrum between Camus-​esque disillusionment, and abject, unadulterated rage. I do not recommend inquiring about the availability of spinach, should the bin appear to be running low. You are likely to leave feeling disconsolate, wounded, and empty inside.
What really makes this particular Diamond Shamrock Subway art, though, is the sign hanging near the cash register, which proclaims that the establishment is PROUDLY owned and operated by the Diamond Shamrock corporation. What a grim caricature of pride that must be.
On the up-​side, the jauntily titled «Halfy Hour» is fabulous — between the generous hours of 11am and 4pm, all fountain drinks are half price.
I am, of course, giving this place five stars, because going there is better than going to the movies. The sheer amount of Brechtian drama and sturm-​und-​drang that goes on there is out of sight. I mean, it’s certainly not the cleanest convenience store on the planet, and it’s not the safest by leagues. Unlike the Circle K up the street, however, I have only ever seen one child being brutalized by his parent within its walls. Do stop in, won’t you?