Don’t kill me
Just gonna pump some gas here.
Oh, great. Look at this skeez-ball eying me up from across the parking lot. Seriously, buddy, why are you staring at me? This hobo-thug lookin’ dude is making me nervous. Stop staring at me! Please!
Sigh. I’m pretending I don’t see him. Slip the ol’ debit card in the slot (still looking at me), enter the PIN (still looking at me), wait for authorization (dear God, he’s going to stab me), stick the nozzle in the tank and pull the trigger (I wonder how much my life insurance pays my wife when I’m a murder victim).
Just filling my tank. He’s walking over. HE’S WALKING OVER! Can this gas pump be any slower? Where’s my wallet? Back pocket? Check. Where’s my can of mace? I don’t have one. WHY DON’T I HAVE A CAN OF MACE? Deep breath. Calm down. He probably just wants to ask for a couple dollars so he can get that bus ticket. Yeah. But I don’t have any cash on me. So I’ll just say Sorry, dude, I don’t have any cash on me. That’ll get him to leave me alone.
Besides, he probably just needs money to buy a 40oz Olde English, anyway. Or a crack rock. Or a meth ball. Does meth come in balls? Whatever. I’m not supporting his drug habit. I’ve seen Intervention. I know the game these junkies play. HE’S ALMOST HERE! WHAT SHOULD I DO? Please, Baby Jesus, protect me from his guns and knives and dirty needles.
Maybe he’ll just try to sell me some cologne. But I don’t wear cologne! What should I say when he asks me to buy his counterfeit cologne? I’ll say NO. I don’t wear cologne. Not interested, buddy. Now SCRAM!
Yeah. That’s what I’ll say. And I don’t need a new watch, either. Or a magazine subscription.
He’s really close now. He’s at the front of my car! I’m gonna keep pretending like I don’t see him. It’s a good strategy. Maybe if I stay real still he won’t be able to see me. That’s how you survive a dinosaur attack. Or a bear attack. I can’t remember. But I’m not gonna move.
Where’d he go? WHERE’D HE GO? He ducked down on the driver’s side of my car! He’s going to surprise me from a blind spot and put a gun to my head. What’s on my leg? Why am I wet? Am I peeing? I may have peed a little bit.
He just popped back up! He’s right behind my car! I bet he hasn’t been to dentist in a long time. The mouth is the first thing to go when you’re strung out on the drugs. Why am I thinking about his oral hygiene when I should be figuring out my defensive strategy?
I’m going to pull out the gas pump and spray him with gas. Yes! Genius! How can he rob me and murder me with a torrent of gasoline blasting his face? He can’t! I’m totally gonna spray him. Oh, but then I’ll probably have to pay for all that extra gas. Dammit!
“Hey, man.”
“Hmm? Oh, hey. What’s up?” Don’t hurt me. Don’t kill me. I don’t have any money.
He’s pointing a black object at me. It’s not a gun. What is that? Is that… a TASER? He’s going to taze me. Don’t taze me, bro! Remember that? From, like a year or two ago? That was funny. Anyways, I’m about to be tazed. This is probably going to hurt. From what I’ve seen, these things are serious business and pack a hell of a wallop. I’m clenching every muscle that can be clenched and preparing for the inevitable zap of thousands of volts. Thousands, right? Is it thousands? Whatever. I’m ready. Do it. My wallet is in my back pocket.
“Here you go. You dropped your phone when you got outta your car.”
“Oh. Did I? Thank you, kind sir. Appreciate it.”
What a nice young man.
