Part 3 Of The Heat-Fueled Kentucky-Derby-Contending Trotter Mrs. HM

After squeezing my knee into T-Hoe, courtesy of the Close-Parker, I drove through Farmer H's pharmacy lot and into the parking lot of the Gas Station Chicken Store. Upon entry, I saw two women standing to my left, at the little lottery station between the two bathroom doors. They were filling out the draw ticket thingies where you pick your own numbers, then hand it to the cashier to scan in to print your ticket.

I got in line behind a man, who was in line behind a woman currently paying. Another woman was on the other side, where I used to stand after procuring my delicious 44 oz Diet Coke. So I knew there were three people ahead of me.

The lady was buying a scratcher and gas and some kind of snack. She asked for a bag. While I was waiting, one of the Draw Ticket Ladies turned around. She paused a moment, then walked up in front of me to the waiting man, put her hand on his shoulder, and said,

"Well hi there!"

He looked at her kind of funny, then said, "Hello."

And SHE CONTINUED TO STAND THERE! She was obviously cutting line! I don't think they knew each other. They didn't make small talk about old times. Draw Ticket Lady DID comment on the picture taped to the plexiglass, which was an old white man with a mask under his chin.

"I wonder what his picture is up there for."

The Lady in Waiting on the other side of the line said, "Maybe he won the red ticket drawing for gas."

 

Draw Ticket Lady said, "Maybe he didn't pay for his gas." 

Man Waiting said, "You gotta pay for your gas before you pump it."

Which is not correct at the Gas Station Chicken Store. They let you pump first. They have really good cameras outside! But they say the police don't really want to chase down the gas thieves because they get released as soon as they haul them in. It's a low priority call. So the owners have said they put up the pictures, hoping somebody knows them and will tell them. So in case they just forgot to pay, they'll come in, or if they don't want the embarrassment.

Anyhoo, I didn't see anything written on that old man's picture. It was such a closeup that I couldn't tell if it was taken inside or outside. But on the wall by the door was a picture of a young black man by the gas pumps, with a note asking "Have you seen this man? Drove off without paying for gas."

 

Now I was not fourth in line, but FIFTH! Ain't that a bite in the rumpus? And to make matters worse, three men came in, one after the other, and I saw another car pulling up to the pumps. The Gas Station Chicken Store is tight quarters! We were already taking up the room by the door. Those guys had to go down the third aisle to get in line, because I was blocking the middle aisle, and the waiters in front of me were blocking the soda fountain aisle. When yet ANOTHER dude came in the door, I'd had enough.

 

"It's too crowded in here for me! I'll go somewhere else today."

 

Out the door I went, fit to be tied over that line-cutter. I took my business to Orb K. Where my day did not get any better...

 

TO BE CONTINUED...