Growing up in a rather blue-collar suburb of Grand Rapids, there wasn’t much to do other than play baseball on a tennis court and padless football on an L-shaped backyard. There weren’t too many cool places to hang out within biking distance, so a trip to 7-Eleven for a Slurpee was about as good as it got. There were no more than four flavors available at any given time, and typically the options were Coca-Cola (always dependable), blue raspberry (the best), cherry (anh…), and piña colada (why the fuck would a prepubescent Midwestern boy want some coconut-ass shit in his Slurpee?). Slurpees were always so much better than the shitty slushes that Cone City peddled down the road. With a slush, you’d get about half-way through and all the syrup would be gone and you’d be left with half a cup of ice. But in the hands of a skilled drinker, the syrup and crushed ice were always in perfect proportion in a Slurpee, from beginning to end.

Over the years I’ve tried to keep in touch with 7-Eleven, stopping in for cigarettes and beer, and even the occasional blue razz Slurpee if it’s on tap.

Anyway, so on my way home from work today, I stopped into a 7-Eleven near downtown to use the ATM. As I walked past the Slurpee machine, something caught my eye. It wasn’t blue raspberry or anything else from my childhood. It was, I think, the exact opposite of that: a sugar-free pomegranate Slurpee. Such an idea was pretty upsetting at first, but then I remembered how much I enjoy pomegranate and how sugar-free means healthy. I couldn’t pass it up. I had to try it. Alas, I’m slightly ashamed to admit it, but it was pretty fucking good. If my 8-year-old self could see my now, he’d kick my ass. What an asshole I’ve turned into.