This 7-11 represents everything that was wrong with Prestige Travel, the terrible travel agency where Nathan and I briefly worked together in Las Vegas. For some reason that I still am unable to fathom, it was frowned upon for us to be seen together outside of the office. We couldn't eat lunch together or take a break together. I even had to get a PO box so no one would know that we lived together. That's an awful lot of nepotism precautions for a company entirely run by one family, yes?
Anyway, Nathan and I would go into CIA mode at break time. He would leave two minutes before me and we would hang out behind 7-11, on the opposite side of the office building where we worked. Good times.
PS -- remember this Terrible's?
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