Subtitle: Perks of a small town
Here’s the setup:
I moonlight in Bangor most weekends. I stopped into a local gas station to fuel up, but only get enough gas to comfortably get to Bangor. I was planning on taking advantage of Sam’s Club’s low low fuel prices. I got 15 bucks worth (twice what I needed), and went inside to get a pack of gum and a cup of coffee.
The place was reasonably busy, and there was a line at the coffee-making station. It was maybe 4 minutes before I got to the counter. I chatted up Employees 1 & 2 behind the counter: “How’s things?” “How’s your mama?” That sort of thing. I paid for my coffee and pack of gum, hopped in my car and drove off.
Not until yesterday did Beth stop into get some gas before heading to Lincoln. Employee 1 said to her upon her entering the store, “Boys, do I have a bone to pick with your husband!” Beth, my soulmate and staunchest supporter, replied, “What did he do this time?”
I never paid for my gas. I just drove off. Sunday morning, Employee 2 had noticed that there’d been a drive off. Someone had stolen their gas! Employee 1 reviewed the security tape and realized it was me. Here’s the best part: she didn’t call the cops; didn’t report the crime; didn’t even try to call me or FB me. She paid my tab, then made mental note to harrass me next time she saw me. Isn’t that the best part of living in a small town?
Beth, of course, (re)paid my bill, then called me up to give me a hard time. I couldn’t believe it! I was headed to the gym where I work. Once there, I went to the weight room and asked one of the cops who was working out if I could have some leniency, since I was turning myself in. He just laughed and wanted to know where I had gotten my gas paid for, because his truck was in need of a fill up.
I’ll probably be the only guy to stop into the gas station with “thank-you” flowers next time I go.