Monday, March 23, 2009

A Letter Explaining Why I Can't Go Back To Sheetz

To the dick head in front of me in line at Sheetz,

I love Sheetz. They are unlike any other gas station chain in the world. I say this because their food doesn’t suck, and their coffee bar is absolutely stupendous.

This is the place where happiness is born.

Usually when I go to Sheetz to get hot caffeine riddled morning treats, it goes without incident. I order, they make it, I pay, they give me my drink, I go about my day. Of course I assumed that today would be more of the same. That was until you walked in. You looked like a cross between a pig and Michael Moore.

So basically you looked like a pig.
I had a hard time deciding if I wanted my coffee to taste like a cookie, and because of my delay, you were able to secure a spot in line ahead of me, even though I entered the store before you. That was no problem; you were completely entitled to do so. However, what you are not entitled to do are any of the following…

#1: Shove your hand down the back of your pants to scratch your ass.

I have no idea why you couldn’t wait to get your hand in there and start digging away. Maybe you had an itch that just needed relief; maybe you were trying to keep me from ever eating again. Either way I saw what you did. I SAW YOU. Then, I watched as you took the hand that was in your anal cavity, and used it to touch everything in sight. I have never been so repulsed/amazed at the total disregard you had for everyone who would ever walk into that store again.
#2: You tried to pay with Canadian currency.

Very rarely do I get upset about people who embrace other cultures, but in the case of trying to use another country’s currency to pay for your USA Today and huge box of assorted doughnuts, I will allow myself to get a little annoyed. In case you have never been bored on a weekend and felt the desire to waste a few hours in Canada, this is what their currency looks like:

It’s like a gay pride flag.

It’s pretty hard to confuse that with American currency. After you pretended like you didn’t realize that you were not in Quebec for fifteen minutes, you decided to take it upon yourself to convince the cashier how economics work, which brings me to my next point…

#3: You yelled at the cashiers when she was trying to do her job.

I never came closer to punching someone in the back of the head in my life. You literally screamed at the poor woman standing behind the register, demanding to speak to the manager. She replied that the manager was not in yet, and you screamed that you would stand here all day and wait if you had to. I wanted to step in and tell you that this was a Sheetz and not a currency exchange kiosk at the airport, but I decided to just pay for my beverage as quickly as I could to avoid incident. Of course, you made that impossible as you set up shop at the counter, opening your US Today and started munching on the doughnuts that you had not even paid for yet.

I must admit the next thing that occurred might have been my own doing, but you have to understand that you were being an incredible ass, and I needed to get out my frustration in some way that did not end with you having doughnuts shoved into every open orifice on your body. When another register was opened because of your childish hissy fit, I moved over to it. As I passed you I made the comment, “Sweet God, finally,” and I rolled my eyes.

For some reason you took major offense to this, as you began mocking me openly in the store. When you made fun of my shirt and tie, calling me a fancy faggy shit, I’ll admit I was mildly amused by your attempt to deflate my confidence. Then you mentioned my glasses and called me the always classic “four eyes”. I smirked at this, mainly because I knew how unoriginal and behind the times you were, and thought the next insult was going to be a “Your Mama’s so Fat” joke. Unfortunately for you, me, and everyone else in ear shot you decided to step over the line straight into “FUCK YOU” territory…

#4: You said my cookie coffee was a pussy drink.

That did it. You can make fun of my glasses, you can make fun of my tie, hell you can even make fun of my mother…but you will not squander the good name of Sheetz coffee while I’m around.

Would a pussy drink coffee that tastes like a cookie? That kind of boldness takes balls.

I'm not 100% sure what I said to you, (I think I called you Flubber) but I do remember slapping the doughnut out of your hand and telling you to get the hell out of the store. At this point the woman at the register asked us to take it outside, and you decided that would be a good idea. When I followed you ran to your car and took off, proving that you are not only a fat, disgusting thief who bullies woman at registers, you are also a huge bitch.

When I went back in the women thanked me for my intervention and gave me my coffee on the house. Unfortunately for me I didn't have that good feeling you get after chasing off a large mooch with horrible hygiene. I was so pissed by the whole experience I couldn't even enjoy my delicious cookie treat. With that, you had won. You kept me from enjoying my coffee, you disgusting piece of garbage, and the embarrassment you made me feel at putting you in your place will keep me from returning to the gas station that I love so very much.

Tomorrow I'm going to Tim Hortons, and I swear to God if I see you there, I will suffocate you with Tim-Bits.

Yours truly,

The Guy Who Wants To Murder You


  1. While I hurt inside over your agony, I must admit that it makes for an amusing story. I just hope that you can find a place in your heart for Sheetz again. Sure, you can take some time and blow off some steam with Timmy, but please come back to her when you are ready... and hopefully that will be soon.

  2. you know the sheetz in robinson towne center... a little passed the kohl's? one time, i got really shit faced at a bar by ikea after my closing shift at the olive garden (ahh the grandiose life i once lived) and my colleague's brother had to pick us up and take us back home (for obvious reasons). on the way home, the brother had to stop at sheetz for... what else? coffee. while he was paying for it, my colleague and i proceeded to piss behind the bushes in the pretty landscaping, and as the cop sirens became louder and louder, we ran. and that is my experience with sheetz.

  3. one stef...u know they have bathrooms inside, right

  4. sometimes, after captain jack gets you high at night, the mind doesn't successfully conclude the whole "bathrooms inside" thing. and good thing, 'cause then i wouldn't have this sheetz experience to share with my fellow brethren, right?