Slurpee Madness

At the risk of sounding like a Seinfeld rip-off: What
is up with 7-11 Slurpee machines? I live near The
World's Busiest 7-11 (Seriously, at 3am on a Tuesday
there's a line), and frequently four of the six
available slurpee flavors are inaccessible due to the
machine malfunctioning. Oh, the Coke one is ALWAYS
working, as is the Cherry Coke one. But who the hell
wants a Cherry Coke slurpee? I could achieve the same
effect by mixing a half a bottle of cherry flavored
Robitussin with a Coke and sticking it in my freezer.
I mean, I won't be doing much for the next sixteen
hours, between the sugar and the alcohol...and, HEY!
Maybe my idea IS better. It certainly packs a punch
the 7-11 version doesn't have.

I'm not a frequent consumer of Slurpees. In college I
couldn't remember the brand name, and famously asked
the United Dairy Farmer clerk for an "orange freezy
thingy." She looked suitably confused, shrugged, and
made me what was basically an Orange Creamicle milk
shake, only with fresh ice cream. It was actually
really really good. But not what I was looking for. I
don't even remember if I finished it.

Anyway, not a big slurpee drinker. But it was hot, one
day. And I wanted something cold, and something not
currently contained withing my refrigerator. So I hied
myself down to The World's Busiest 7-11 (Seriously.
One of my friends once waited twenty minutes at 11pm
to buy a pack of cigarettes.) to see what my choices
were. And there they were, hypnotically swirling away
behind their glass windows. And I was like, oh, those
look soooo good. That day the Crystal Light Mango one
was broken, which was a shame, because it sounded so
good. I ended up with a Fanta one (which, for some
reason, I thought was sugar free. It's not.), and it
was soooo good. I mean, it was the first one I'd had
in about, um, maybe twenty years? Possibly longer,
since I won't debate it if someone says they
distinctly remember me drinking one after school one
day when I was in the eleventh grade.

But no. I am to be denied ever having a Slurpee again.
Oh, I try. I'll gamely go in, grab a cup and the
correct size lid, wrestle it onto the cup, and
patiently give my flavor of choice a try. Most often
it's just liquid, and thus lacking the frozen element
which makes it a novelty. Sometimes it doesn't work at
all. Meaning, the mixture is frozen, but the tap won't
dispense it. Asking the clerks doesn't help, since,
when you ask when the machine will be fixed, they just
say, "It's broken." Thanks, Einstein.

Maybe I should just give in and buy the Slurpee Home
Version they're selling. I imagine it to be like the
Snoopy Sno Cone Maker, only...not as good, because I'm not
six anymore.

Damn you, World's Busiest 7-11 (Seriously,
because...well, you know.).