This morning I miss a couple of buses and slink into the well organized gas station for some coffee and trail mix to dodge the pounding wet licks from above. In the middle of having my receipt handed to me a car pulls over the shoulder without breaking and lands into opposing traffic. Then in the middle of all the blaring combo of car horns, skidding rubber slapping wet pavement and all the swerving a Hooters waiters flees her car like a frightened gazelle almost getting flattened by several minivans filled with scared and perverted children. "MOMMY, DON'T DRIVE AWAY!!" I of course did the most altruistic thing as she barges into the gas station ecstatic and also happy that she did get in a crash needing 5 on pump 10 and laughed to myself then walked outside and took a picture on my phone. The best part was... there were... only 8 pumps.
I find myself with two classmates making a Vaseline run for an entire classroom between the awkward angular, rich but hilarious deadpan German coo's of "YA YA" along to techno music and the pause you have to take registering why someone has fishing rods, some clearly unused hi-heels and a thief's mask in their back seat. Soon this empty space of oddities gets colored by our cackling as we line up 12 items, all Vaseline, along the conveyor belt each contained by dividers. The moment swells like a teenage acne breakout upon my female classmate having to tell the cashier to pay for them separately as she produces a wad of dollar bills, "All of this is for a little group fun." I could of cried from laughing to hard. I did. The tears tasted like win.
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