7-Eleven and I Just Broke Up

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?