When Slurpees Attack

Last week in Provo!  We have just been packing and getting everything ready for the trip to Tennessee.  One night we stopped by our local 7-11 for some refreshing Slurpees, and ended up with a funny memory.

Cory and I have been getting Slurpees at this 7-11 together since our second date over three years ago.  We are very familiar with the layout, and feel very qualified in operating the heavy machinery.  This night, however, that all seemed to change.  Cory got her Pina Colada flavor, while I filled my cup with a few different flavors.

As I was going to top mine off with some wild cherry, disaster struck.  I think we are all familiar with how Slurpee machines work.  You pull the lever out, and Slurpee comes out the nozzle.  You push back in and it stops.  I successfully completed step one.  Wild Cherry Slurpee was filling my cup at a rapid pace.  As it reached the top, I started to push back in to stop the flow.  

Nope.  Lever stuck. The Slurpee flow into my cup was as powerful as ever.  No more cup left.  Slurpee spilling over top of cup onto my hand. Correction, onto my forearm.  Time seems to be moving in slow motion, though only about 2 seconds have passed.  Cory comes over to see what the commotion is.  I jiggle the lever.  Slurpee stops flowing, but lever isn't pushed back in yet.  Irrational fear creeps in that my fingers will need to be amputated due to frostbite.  More jiggling.  Something gives and lever pops back into "off" position.  Simultaneously with popping action, massive air pocket pressure shoots out of nozzle, effectively creating a frozen Slurpee bomb out of my cup.  Slurpee shoots about 2 feet in the air.  

We are dripping.  Cory and I are dripping Slurpee onto the ground.  My shirt has Slurpee foam all over it.  Cory has it in her hair.  We both stand stunned with cold foam all over us.  The store clerk has either not noticed, does not care, or is pretending nothing happened so she doesn't have to clean it up.  It was funny about 10 minutes later.

It was almost as if the Slurpee machine, in one swift and violent action, yelled, "GET OUT OF HERE!  WE DON'T WANT YOU IN PROVO ANYMORE! JUST LEAVE ALREADY!"  Even our beloved Slurpee machine had turned on us.  As we walked out, a single tear rolled down my cheek.  Well, I thought it was a tear.  It was actually melted Slurpee dripping down from my hair.