June 2009 by Drue C.
As you walk in it's as if you have descended into the depths of convenience store hell. The lighting is just slightly less eerie than the lighting at the DMV. There is expired food on barren shelves that, together, have a post apocalyptic feel - a few stray cans of such culinary delights as Vienna sausages and dusty Jiffy cornbread mix wait patiently for someone to be desperate enough to purchase them. The shop keep is pacing behind the counter, married to his phone, yet, with all of the practice talking, when he opens his mouth nothing he says makes any sense. A pint of Jack Daniels will run you $16. A pint, $16. This is honestly the twilight zone of convenience stores. Even Reno is too normal for this place, and I would never use those words lightly.