The downtown Main Street Seven Eleven is my destination in the early morning. The 29 Beach bus takes me to First and Orange. The thrill of feeling the ocean air puts my body at rest. I walk west on orange until the Seven Eleven store greets me. A few homeless sit on a large round mound covered with flowers. One is eating a sandwich while the other has removed his socks and giving them much needed air.
Now inside, I treat myself to a small coffee. I spike it with honey and several types of creams before paying my fare at the counter. Outside, I sit on a tiled fountain with a sculptured gargoyle Lion spitting water my way. Several pennies have been removed from the fountain bed. Two well-dressed ivy leagues enter the store in back of me. I walk in a listen. It is apparent the two speak to a the managers.
"It is what it is, Jeff. The last time we checked your store we didn't make any comments except telling you, 'It is what it is.' But now I see that you can make a few changes to bring more cash into the store." The edict came from a young Ivy League looking man -- Bostonian leather shoes, top of line sweater over a flashy black shirt.
Two quiet blond ladies and a man tried to appear interested. Jeff, a rather quiet spoken gentleman, tried to give the man his fullest attention, but he seemed bored. Another executive with a quick mouth and aristocratic manner bantered more suggestions to milk future customers in the surf city called Huntington.
"See the wax section over here. We make four hundred a month just from this section from this store...See this area. We can place school supplies here. Back here, we can put tools and medical supplies. Wal Mart and a CVS are at least three miles away."
Next to the door sat a selection of wax bottles. I thought it must have been for the ladies.. But on closer inspection, saw that it was meant for surf board. They must have had a good inventory control with each purchase made at all of their stores. I decided to confront the little man with the not-so-little mouth.
"From San Diego. Your store sat in back of the YMCA on C Street. I drank a one dollar Mocha and hot dog every day. Also, the little plastic containers of chef salad were my favorites..."
"We had special shirts made in San Diego. Glad you like our stores." He continued to examine each nick of the hidden Seven Eleven without needing a bandage. Here we can place tools and other necessities seen at CVS. We can compete with the bigger stores like Target right here."
Only two men spoke with quick tongues and lots of excitement. I felt sorry that what was really needed was more exposure to the outside, since only the locals knew about this shy store. Its signs can't be seen off the main drag on Main Street.
"We will compete with other big named stores and sell what they do. We will cut into the profits of Wal Marts and other big named stores in the area. But with all the events On Main like Farmers Market Tuesdays, auto shoes, surf and volleyball tournaments. you can score real big."
The little man told me to get a business card from Jeff. Of course Jeff told me he had no cards but this didn't bother me. I knew that the next day I would get a hair cut from my friendly Vietnamese barber off of Warner and Golden West. Too bad I waited so long to get a haircut, but tomorrow or today will have to do.
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