When I first saw workers laying down brick for the new Circle K on the southeast corner of Roosevelt and Seventh streets, I was ecstatic. “They’re putting in a QuikTrip!” It only took me one more look to realize I was wrong (I probably should’ve read our site’s coverage; we’ve known about this since 2013.)
This Circle K brings me back to my sophomore days of high school, when the most mischievous thing to do in suburban Tucson was sneak out at night and buy candy at the nearby gas station. These large ones are going viral, and I’m all for the beautification of these bad boys. Basically two Pokemon-evolutions away from the old Circle K right across the street, this NEW Circle K had potential. Following some uninspired Onion-like posts about this newcomer, it was time to dig in deep.
The time was 10:25 a.m. Clouds slowly dispersed through the sky. My main thought as I biked toward the luxurious Circle: Why the hell am I wearing a sweater?
And it’s luxurious, indeed. You can tell because it’s big and new. It even has some crisp bicycle parking. Check out my parking job:
Pretty cool, huh? Anyway, that’s beside the point. You can’t judge a book by its cover. It was time to go inside and survey the array.
Before I even bought anything, I glanced down the aisles. On first sight I could already tell there was segregation going on: The prepared food/soda fountains were on the left, and the bottled drinks/alcohol/home essentials on the right. Coming from a person that finds the mess of more compact stations humanizing, I was a bit disappointed at this detached arrangement.
Is this a metaphor for modern-day America?
Probably not.
Still, I was impressed by what I saw. Someone kindly helped me figure out the beef jerky prices, and someone else arranged a banana display. “Flex (Ooh, Ooh, Ooh)” by Rich Homie Quan played on the speakers. And the “wine cellar” — well, it tried.
There were also HUGE SCREENS above the soda fountain. The Circle K aesthetes knew you’d be spending some time over there, considering there were enough choices to make a fairly difficult probability question on a math test.
It was time for me to make the decision of what I would purchase. Given that Downtown Devil did not budget out a reimbursement for me, I settled on the gas station essentials:
- A Homer Simpson doughnut
- A Coke bottle
- A Gansito
- A Slim Jim
Total: $6.16. Bank savings out the yahoo. I figured I could get both breakfast and a lunchtime snack out of this, both of which are in no way a healthy part of a balanced diet. I’m pretty sure you can go somewhere else downtown to get more nutritious groceries, though.
First up: the Homer Simpson doughnut. It was large, soft and pink with sprinkles. All I can say is that this Circle K will be a welcome addition to downtown’s ongoing obsession with doughnuts.
Come 1 p.m., it was time for lunch. I opened up my Gansito package to find not one, but TWO chocolate snack cakes. If you don’t already know, Gansitos are pretty much the cool Latino stepbrother of the Hostess brand. Probably a good point to disclose my bias now: I’m Chilean. This tasted pretty sugary, especially when combined to mush with the Coke I got. But I’ll check back in an hour.
2 p.m.: Doing all right. Heart is beating, lungs are taking in air. This is a great proof that Circle K is more than willing to take care of your snack needs, no matter the brand.
Honestly, I only ate half the Slim Jim and passed the rest to my roommate. I was scared.
This review aside, it’s worth asking: What are gas stations for?
They should be for picking up drunken late-night snacks or the bag of ice you forgot when you went to the actual grocery store. Oh, and gasoline. Sometimes they are one of the few ways to get what some people need to live.
As a kid, gas stations felt like freedom, where I could go with my friends when we’d had enough of everywhere else we could walk. Those friends are not the same people they were back then, and neither am I. We’re older and have found more enriching sources of satisfaction (yes, more enriching than the sugar).
Going to a convenience store to find any sort of escape doesn’t really work, nor should it have to at a certain age. But I guess it doesn’t have to be so serious. It’s just candy, right?
Rating (0-5): 
Contact the columnist at motarola@asu.edu
