Police, criminals and the 7-Eleven beat

Opinion

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 26/08/2024 (376 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

“Hi! How are you? You hungry?” she says. “I have fresh tacquitos.”

The 7-Eleven tacquito.

A hand-held explosion of flavourful mouth-watering tastiness, and an epitome of convenience.

Combining it with an apple for a quick snack hardly allayed the guilt in having one (or two).

And with several days’ worth salt and saturated fat “per serving,” you needed to chase it with Lipitor or Zestril (or Tums), because it’s not only tasty and tempting, but also testing of your system.

Shift work isn’t healthy either, and staff at the 7-Eleven at William and Isabel and too many other Winnipeg 7-Elevens knew this all too well, exposed as they were to the crime in their respective areas.

So they certainly appreciated police visits, and “Joanne” (her “store” name) was especially welcoming, the opening words of this article being those not unlike hers.

Were it not for “the system,” she would be an asset on the front line of health care, as she was in the country of her birth.

Nonetheless, she approached her position at 7-Eleven with an especially admirable dedication and intensity that at times made me feel embarrassed, for she faced more danger working there than many police officers faced, worked harder than most mortals, and was paid far less.

Like too many people.

There were too many times she worked nights by herself, and despite being able to control entry, the unknown still loomed large.

Invariably, the police visits increased when staff issues were known, and many a report was typed in that lot.

Many officers were customers of the store regardless, more so while on duty, with energy drinks for some, lotto for others, cigars for a few, etc.

And snacks.

The vagaries of shift work and policing did not typically allow for defined eating breaks.

When I first started in uniform patrol in 1984, keeping to the assigned lunch break time was possible, and expected.

The call load then was not what it has increasingly become.

There was a mentality of adhering to your break time, because other patrol units had to wait their turn, but sometimes it just wasn’t possible.

However, over time, the number of calls kept increasing, especially higher priority ones, so taking a lunch break was secondary to taking an emergency call, for most officers anyway.

So between calls or while on a call, grabbing something quick was de rigueur, and options weren’t like they are today, so gravitating to the signature 7-Eleven sign was elementary.

“Oh thank Heaven for (shift workers, for) 7-Eleven.”

My earliest recollection of visiting 7-Eleven on the job was Christmas 1984, and thousands more visits to 7-Eleven followed over the many years, some for convenience, some for a call at the store, or for both.

On a hot day, a Slurpee might occasionally follow an arrest at a 7-Eleven store, or coffee on a cold day.

Policing probably took me to almost every 7-Eleven in the city, but with almost 25 years working downtown, it was mostly to the William/Isabel location.

It was a short, easy, almost mandatory drive from the old Public Safety Building, and it was also on a direct route to the much-visited HSC.

It was probably the most well attended 7-Eleven, and by police from all districts.

Yet it closed.

“Numerous” is an understatement to describe the number of calls there, which included robberies and serious assaults, and those are just the calls primarily impacting employees.

Too many customers were also victims of crime, and too many calls went unreported.

“Joanne” was the victim of numerous assaults herself, including numerous verbal assaults, especially on her race, and mostly by people we would, ironically, conceivably call hypocrites, given the circumstances.

Crimes didn’t feed people so much as they fed opportunity, which itself was fed by indifference.

Although well lit up at night from the outside, the bright lighting inside the store made it difficult for staff to easily see outside until people were close to the door, which often was too late.

You could well imagine it felt like being trapped, in addition to feeling vulnerable, and then never knowing what would happen, let alone what might happen.

Too many people, have not, cannot, and will not fathom the fear and trepidation those 7-Eleven employees endured.

But probably certain people should experience it, in order to have a better understanding, of what is really happening out there.

Being insulated from reality by virtue of one’s office (literally and figuratively) hardly inspires confidence in their opinion.

Kevin Birkett retired from the Winnipeg Police Service in 2020.