It's a Saturday night, the week is done (for a day), I've survived and I'm celebrating at home with a glass of rum.
I'm famished.
And restless.
And I think of taking myself to a bar, but there are none handy, and I've got to be up early to go to the flea market. So I compromise and decide upon 7/11.
Now it's not the same, not by a long shot, and while it will do nothing for my restlessness it might (somewhat) curb my hunger...
This is what it's come to. Saturday night at 7-11.