The mega-corporation of Sheetz gas stations in the North Eastern United States is not only driving Texaco further and further West, it is assuring that there is nothing left which enables the Sheetz Corporation to charge whatever the hell they want to send people to places that they more than likely don't want to go in the first place; however, this is not about the rate of growth of Sheetz, it is about the food service inside which is the cause of salmonella in over 160 cases.

This is a story about a person who ordered a Black Angus hamburger and some Sheetz fries and was forced to wait over 30 minutes for the hamburger. They seem to be on the ball with the fries seeing as they were up in ten minutes, which is still a long wait for "fast food". In this situation, three workers and approximately eight customers--about four of them having food orders; the other four merely wanting to pay for their gas and continue their daily commute. With one woman working the register and having quite a problem staying awake and pushing a few buttons at the same time,I was more than happy to wait a few minutes; however, after twenty-five minutes of waiting and seeing people get their orders in approximately five minutes, I than gave myself permission to get a little "bitchy". Considering the fact that I do not like the taste of spit in my hamburger, I decided to wait until I had safely procured the burger before speaking my rage that had been boiling for the past half hour.

Now, I have to wonder if the two people making the orders were competent enough to place the burger on a pretzel bun , which I had paid an extra fifty cents for! Since the first amendment affords me the right to my opinion after getting my burger, all I could come up with was, "Your service really sucks-- do you know that?" The only response was from the person behind the counter, who uttered, "I can't help it if we are busy". Due to the fact that I was extremely perturbed at that point, I decided to reply with " You call eight customers in thirty minutes busy?", after which I stormed out the door munching on my cold fries and feeling pretty confident that even though all the other people agreed, they were too spineless to say anything--but merely burst out in laughter and applause as I stormed away--I just assumed that they don't like the taste of spit either. After all this, I promised myself that if this wasn't the best damn burger to ever slide down my throat, I am never going to the Sheetz in Carroltown again!

I opened the foil like an excited child on Christmas morning and realized that my fifty cents-- my fifty portraits of Abe Lincoln, were a moot point seeing as the Harvard grads at Sheetz forgot my pretzel bun! Since I didn't want to take it back and wait an hour for a spit burger I went to the window right in front of the store, took one big defiant bite, opened the burger and slammed the halves on the window and walked away. Something tells me that I won't be welcome at Sheetz in Carrolltown anytime soon.