Was all of it a dream? Did it really occur? A touch of cinnamon lingering on my tongue the one indication that, sure, that which you understand to be actual in truth is. It actually wouldn’t be the primary time my work life bled its manner into the sleep realm, contorting actuality into some grotesque simulacrum, just like the time I gained US Cup Tasters by slurping from a diner mug. However this one feels totally different in a manner. Far-fetched, however tangible.

Right here’s what I do know for positive: final week I wrote about 7-Eleven releasing a pumpkin spice-flavored Slurpee, or “PSLurpee” as Sprudge co-founder Jordan Michelman accurately dubbed it. The PSLurpee got here out August 1st, and was restricted to simply 5 7-Elevens places nationwide. One among which simply so occurred to be in my very own yard. Being the Hen Little continually clucking concerning the tyranny of the pumpkin spice, this appeared like an excellent likelihood to indulge myself within the seasonal encroachment. Possibly the sky isn’t falling and somewhat autumn in summer time is ok. In order that’s what I did. I made the 30-minute drive to provide the pumpkin spice Slurpee a good shot.

Or at the least I feel I did. Like an alien encounter or a bout of hypnosis, the dream logic of what ensued grew to become an amalgam of all my earlier PSL experiences, scrambled misplaced like a four-dimensional Rubik’s Dice.

Discovering the 7-Eleven was a little bit of a hero’s quest unto itself. Mapping to the handle given within the press launch returns not a comfort retailer however the firm’s Irving, Texas company headquarters, a nondescript four-story gray constructing positioned within the west Dallas suburb. Brutal, however not Brutalist. All entry roads into the HQ are guarded with a safety checkpoint, straining all credulity of the “comfort” within the course of. Does the shop even actually exist?

Undeterred, I circled the constructing checking for a weak level of their protection (or at the least a spot to drag over and see if there have been some other 7-Elevens close by that will match the invoice). And there it was, on a again street behind the constructing: the telll-tale orange, inexperienced, and purple stripes. A hidden comfort retailer. A 7-Eleven speakeasy.

 

Inside, it had the look of different 7-Elevens, however one thing was off about it. It was too clear, too sterile, too excellent. As if some eccentric billionaire had meticulously recreated the comfort retailer right down to the final element—the Slurpee machine, the rows of sweet, the backdrop of cigarettes framing the cashier—so they might partake in regular day by day human actions with out having to return close to any precise people. A completely functioning collector’s merchandise to which I used to be an uninvited visitor.

Everybody else within the retailer seemed to be employed by the corporate and this was their very own private commissary and take a look at kitchen. Enterprise informal 7-Eleven-branded polo shirts selecting up deli sandwiches, a promotional interview video happening within the chips aisle with a claustrophobically tight close-up of some regional administration determine, and me. I might really feel their eyes as I hurried towards the Slurpee machine. Is that this a kind of goals the place you forgot to placed on pants earlier than going out?

Decency be damned, I push forward and there I lastly see it: the pumpkin spice Slurpee, tumbling in orange technicolor. I used to be completely satisfied to seek out that this was one of many old-school Slurpee machines, the analog lever-type with the shiny black knob which you can actually drive, not the soulless digital touchscreen that farts out no matter shade mixture you choose. I make a straight up PSLurpee, then a second one, this time a mixture of PSL and Coca-Cola, which had been mentioned beforehand as probably being actually good. I pay and hightail it out of there as shortly as I can, lest they drive me to affix their company cult.

Again within the protected area of my automobile, the place I undoubtedly did have pants on—suspiciously in the identical pumpkin spice shade palette—I get my first likelihood to truly style the PSLurpee critically (as may be anticipated from a dream Cup Tasters champion). The primary sip was simply so cinnamony. Simply cinnamon and chilly till your mind freezes over and it’s important to press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. It’s not that Purple Hots-like cinnamonesque sweet taste, however fairly, a wallop of actual, precise cinnamon taste with a syrupy sweetness. It wouldn’t be totally misplaced in a latte on some specialty store’s fall menu.

Because the slush melts and dilutes the drink, the cinnamon taste dies down and new notes of nutmeg and vanilla start to emerge, and the drink turns into—dare I say—good? Possibly it was the 100° warmth, however I discovered myself persevering with to achieve towards the cup holder, first out of journalistic integrity, then morbid curiosity, then bona fide enjoyment. Now on to the Coca-Cola combo.

This was scrumptious from the bounce. The pumpkin spice supplied the richer bass notes, the again beat over which the trebly Coca-Cola might wail. It’s the dream pairing and the right use of the pumpkin spice, and I’m flummoxed as to why Coca-Cola hasn’t created a model but.

Whether or not both of those Slurpees really ever existed who can say. Parsing what was actual from what was a dramatic-reinterpretation-as-fever-dream of a earlier article would require a deep understanding of the movie Mulholland Drive, maybe your complete Lynchian canon, of which I merely don’t possess. However perhaps the purpose of the pumpkin spice Slurpee isn’t within the overwhelming cinnamonness of all of it, it lies not in its fact, perhaps it’s actually all concerning the Slurpees (we predict) we had alongside the way in which.

Zac Cadwalader is the managing editor at Sprudge Media Community and a employees author based mostly in Dallas. Learn extra Zac Cadwalader on Sprudge.