D & J Ez-Mart

Aahh… Who doesn’t appreciate a local neighborhood Mini Mart, you know, one that you can walk to and get your sodey-​pop and Whatchamacallits and your cancer sticks and whatnot, if it floats your boat.
This was the scariest, weirdest Mini Mart I have visited this side of the Mississippi. I have traveled cross country before by car, stopping along the way at least 4 – 5 times a day for gasoline and provisions.
Little did I know that the darkest, dankest, sh***iest Mini-​Mart ever exists not a mile from my current position.
This store is like a dark ugly chasm of overpriced crap and is manned by two cashiers who look like they are totally high on life.
The ceiling is super low, and even for someone of relatively short stature as myself, I felt as if the ceiling would cave in on me at any moment.
The crowning glory to this dumpy dank shack armhole pit mini mart is the overwhelming tang of cheap disinfectant trying desperately to cover up the stench of death.
I’m not kidding. It smells like some animal (i hope its an animal) crawled into the sagging loosened tiles of the ceiling and died up there, permeating the whole store with the stink of rotting death and dirty diaper.
I will never get back that time I lost, In the dirty chasm of D and J, all because I was thirsty and wanted a Coke Zero.