Errand Day started off like normal. I picked up The Pony one minute early. We passed by Casey's because they looked busy, and went to the bank first. The only car at the only open drive-thru lane pulled away as soon as I put T-Hoe in line. The gal inside was prompt and polite in giving me my weekly withdrawal.
We made a short stop at the Save A Lot, so The Pony could run in and get four scratchers out of the machine. Two for me, one for Genius, and one for Fave. There was a lady lurking at the side/front of the building, but she wasn't blocking my handicap space. She was waiting for an Uber, and was picked up before The Pony returned.
Back to Casey's, which now had my preferred Pump 4 open. Little did I know how exciting this visit would become.
"Why are those people still standing in front? They were there when we went by the first time."
"It looks like that group who sets up a table to sell things or ask for donations."
"Dang it! Why are they RIGHT BY THE RAMP? Now I have to walk right up to them and get accosted."
"I don't know, Mom. They're usually down by the doors."
"Well, I'm not looking forard to this, but T-Hoe needs gas. What did we get last time? Was it $35? I think I'll get $40, because the gauge is a little lower."
Let the record show that this is less than half a tank, to top off T-Hoe every week. Maybe 3/8 of a tank. I don't measure the gallons, I just pay a round amount that I think T-Hoe will hold.
I went inside to pre-pay for T-Hoe's gas, and The Pony waited until the credit showed on the pump, to start filling T-Hoe while I used the bathroom inside. I thought I could skate by the beggars, since they were talking to a man who was buying something. I tried not to look, lest they wrongly assume interest and philanthropy. It looked like different t-shirts, and maybe some keychains or lanyards. Three women were stationed at the table.
"How are you today, Ma'am?"
"Good!" I kept walking. Several other people were passing by me, headed back to their cars.
Inside, only one register was open. It was the purple-haired lady, who is really nice. She had to get my tickets from a big box off to the side. She said they were getting a new ticket system. And that all the numbers were one off from the numbers on the display I was choosing from. She asked me if each ticket was right as she pulled it out. I helped by describing which one as I said the numbers. She was pretty efficient. I paid for $40 worth of gas, and my scratchers. Then I headed to the bathroom.
When I left the store, I knew I had to run the gauntlet of the beggars again. I steeled myself for the interaction and took two steps--
"Mom! Mom! Wait!"
It was The Pony, trotting across the parking lot to intercept me before I got to the beggars and the ramp. This scared me. Was something wrong with The Pony? A robber? Locked out of T-Hoe? Sick?
"I wanted to catch you before you walked all the way back! The pump shut off and said to see the cashier. I couldn't get any more gas in. I think there's about six dollars and something you should get back. Since YOU are the one who paid, I doubt they'd give the money to me."
"Yeah. Okay. That's a relief." We went inside and got in line for the $6.45 refund.
Coming out the door, the drama unfolded. A man on the sidewalk said, "Ma'am, it's not safe for you here. I'm calling 9-1-1." He wasn't talking to me. I think it was to one of the beggars. She was coming towards us, away from the table.
A stocky man stood in the empty parking space where The Pony had just come across a few minutes earlier. "Go ahead, then. CALL the police! Do you think I care? Come out here and do what you said you were going to do! You don't want none of this! Come on! Right now! Do it!"
The Pony and I continued unmolested. I passed the table without any begging. The Pony cut between a couple of cars. The stocky man was milling around in the empty spaces. He slammed his hat down on the pavement, still yelling, then picked it up and moved toward the slim guy with glasses who was calling 9-1-1.
A man came out of Casey's, who I assume was some type of regional manager. He had been dealing with the register area, and had asked Purple Hair to sign something on his phone with her finger in the middle of my transaction. He was wearing black slacks and a red polo shirt with the Casey's logo. As I glanced back, he was telling Slim to go inside the store. Stocky continued to rant.
I wish I knew the outcome! We guessed that maybe Stocky had insulted the beggar-women, and Slim was going to be their hero. Slim didn't look like one to start something.
Our business was done, and I left. No need to hang around and get in the middle of something "we didn't want none of!"
Such excitement on this Errand Day.
No comments:
Post a Comment