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A lifestyle blog by Buffy Charlet on The Whole 9

Buffy Charlet grew up on a hippie commune and then fell in love with hip hop. From Teepee to Easy E, there’s really no explaining it. She’s been everything from a hand model to an editor at Hustler Magazine to a bartender. Now she’s just livin’ the dream, between shifts.

From Commune to 7-11, Part Dos

If you don’t want this to be a complete waste of your time, you need to read Part One. C’mon, do it. It’s for the bunnies.

Okay, so if you remember (I know there’s a weekend and probably some boozing in between), I was about to make the momentous decision of what flavor Slurpee I was going to get. I was 7 years old, fresh off the commune, it was my first Slurpee and for all I knew, my last, so I better make a good goddamn choice.

Now there was the blue raspberry that Mrs. Cuntalot picked; that did seem intriguing…but I didn’t want to give her the pleasure of being a copy-cat and I was still pretty convinced that “blue raspberry” was just a liar’s term for rotten fruit. Then there was the green apple that her daughter the Gremlin got and then mixed with the blue raspberry. That combo produced a color similar to that of cat diarrhea if the cat had just drank an apple martini. I’m not a fan of cat diarrhea, especially of an alcoholic cat with no taste in good booze, so the mixing of the two was out.

And then I saw it, a Coke flavored Slurpee. Jizzitty jackpot biznatches. I had never had a soda, much less The Coca Cola and I had never had anything with caffeine. Bring on the crack. I had to face facts—I may never be back to 7-11 again, so I needed to maximize this opportunity. I needed to get the most bang for my crumpled up, sweaty buck.

Poured, purchased, lid on, red-scooper-straw in the hole—come to mama. I closed my eyes, wrapped my chapped lips around that straw and I sucked. And when it hit my tastebuds…

Eh. It was o-kay.

I figured the disappointment must just lie in the first taste. Like the first time you have sex. I needed to acquaint myself to these new flavors and textures before I could fully appreciate them. I took another sip.


I mean, it wasn’t awful, but it surely wasn’t something to spend my lunch money on. It was sloppy joe Tuesday and even though I didn’t know what a sloppy joe was, I was pretty sure I wasn’t gonna get it at home.

I wondered if Gremlin’s cat diarrhea Slurpee was any better. This is an actual photo of Gremlin, btw. Just so you can put the face to the name.

“Hey Gremlin, I’ll trade you a sip of mine for a sip of yours?”

“Coke Slurpees are gross,” Oh great, so she knew this and didn’t warn me? Butthole. She continued, “But I guueeessss you can have a sip of mine. Just a little sip though.”

And so I did. And that goddamn cat diarrhea, alien vomit Slurpee was HEAVEN. Shiiiiiiit. I totally blew it. BeeeLEW IT. Let slip my one and only chance at legal crack cocaine. A life of pinto beans, brown rice and kale awaited me.

The depression hit me hard and fast. Everything went dim and far away. All I felt was my own despair. As if I had fallen into a K Hole without the K. I came back to a semi-conscious state and I tried to play it off like I was loving my Coke Slurpee, fully committed to my choice, but inside I was dying a thousand deaths. It was worse than being on the Price Is Right and choosing door #2 when the Chevy Malibu was actually behind door #3. Worse.

I finished that goddamn Coke Slurpee. I had to. Even if I didn’t like it I needed every gram of pure, refined sugar, every ounce of caffeine, every minute of the resounding sugar crash, and every moment of feeling normal.

Slowly I began to get over my 7-11 depression. Especially once I found out that they had some candy as cheap as a dime and that I was pretty good at convincing Mrs. Cuntalot that a 7-11 diet makes you skinny so we should go there as much as possible.

As Cuntalot’s muffin top grew, so did my taste for Now N Laters, Airheads and Charleston Chews. Whether the situation fits or not, I can pretty much always sum up my life with the same Nelly quote:

“Tell em, fuck the shame. Tell em fuck the game, don’t let the game fuck you.”

HHH out.

  1. I kinda want a slurpee now…

  2. Bur what about cherry slurpee mixed with Coke slurpee? That’s pretty good…

  3. *But

  4. cute cat pic.

  5. Once again…thank you for writing and bringing such lovely memories back to life! lol My step-father wouldn’t allow us to drink coke type products but he secretly held a stash of RC Cola in his bedroom. My hankerin for a good RC gets me still every once in a blue raspberry moon. Yes I stole one….or two.

  6. Let’s Make A Deal.

  7. Does Mrs ‘C’ know about a legal name change…I’m just sayin’

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