First, they turned my White Hen into a 7-Eleven.
I still went. I told myself it was just a name.
Then, a whole new owner came in and hired people I didn't know. One overly chatty and extremely annoying woman takes 10 minutes to give you accurate change while simultaneously criticizing the long line.
I mean this is Beverly for chrissakes. We don't do new people. Especially when they're annoying.
While trying to limit my exposure to the cashier-challenged, I figured out what time the woman worked and only visited during her off-hours.
Next, they switched the in-store ATM from our bank (no fees) to another bank (fees).
I growled, but I still needed my coffee. But I'd be damned if I was getting cash!
Then worst of all, they let go of the old-timer who knew our neighborhood, our kids, and our regular lottery numbers by heart.
I stopped going for weeks.
Shamefully, I returned when I started arriving late for the school pick-ups because getting coffee at Dunkin' Donuts was taking way too long.
But finally, I've reached my no-return limit.
They upped the price of coffee from $2.03 to $2.18. That would result in a complete depletion of all my car wash quarters (needed for regular vacuuming of the minivan). If I tried to conserve my vacuum quarters, I'd end up toting around a purse weighed down with the results of all those 82 cent change transactions. Madness.
There are a lot of neighborhoods in Chicago where none of this would matter. Beverly is not one of those neighborhoods. Our kids walk up to this 7-Eleven for Slurpees and chat with the cops getting coffee. This 7-Eleven is en route to the downtown train and each morning dozens of related family members, friends, and neighbors congregate in front for a groggy hello. This 7-Eleven might as well be the nerve center of our little 'hood in the big city.
I am not sure what else I can do to communicate how upset I am over these recent developments.
Perhaps a strongly worded letter to 7-Eleven is in order?