Tuesday, March 07, 2006

maybe it was magic...

The prodigal son has returned for a week and after joining the family for dinner last night, I made a much needed stop at a darkened Mill Valley gas station and refilled poor Rhonda the Honda. As I stood there, bundled up and cursing foreign oil policy, an older Jamaican gentleman emerged from the little cashier’s hut and wandered over to me.
“Ya want me pump your gas?”
“No, thanks. I’m cool.”
“A lady shouldn’t be fillin’ her own tank, now.”
“Oh, I’m fine. Thank you.” Go away, go away, go away. I’m in a deserted gas station and you’re freaking me out.
“Give it here to me.”
“Nope. I’m good. Thank. You.” What the hell is going on?
“I’m just tryin’ be nice, lady. You no want I pump your gas?”
Is this a metaphor for something disgusting? “NO. I am fine.”
I decided a half full tank was better than dealing with this guy any longer, and wrapped it up as he watched me.
“All done! Thanks for your help.” Ugh, get me the hell out of here.
“Hey lady, wait!” He hollered as I got back in my car. “I have something for you.”
He reached into his jumpsuit pocket and extracted a pack of gum, slowly removing one stick and handing it to me. “Dis for you, lady.”
Oh my god.
“Thank you!” I screamed, far too enthusiastically. I slammed my door shut and booked it out of there, hyper-conscious of the mysterious stick of voodoo gum sitting in the middle of the passenger seat.
It sits there still. Right this very minute. Call me paranoid. Call me a spaz. But I need some rubber gloves and a tweezers before I go near that shit again…

4 comments:

Nihilistic said...

Fruit or Spearmint?

Anonymous said...

that Jason guy is cute...

Spots said...

I'm starting a new blog. It's called Jason's Fansite. Consisting of a handful of desperate Marina 30-somethings with visions of Architecture books on their coffee tables, J's fan club meets weekly at his favorite hangout, the 5th floor of the Men's Store at Saks 5th Avenue. Jason sightings evoke squeals and occasional fainting, especially when spotted out with "the girl I'm flirting with right now." Dues for J's fan club consist of 4 hours spent listening to Emo Rock and required daily reading of the Chronicle's Datebook section. Members must also be familliar with my blog, so on the off chance that Jason one day speaks to them, they'll be able to dive into his favorite conversation, "So who do you think called me cute on your blog? No, I'm serious. Who?"

#1 Stalker said...

I hear he's good in bed, too.