Macy recently got her drivers license and last night I had to fill up her gas tank. She can take my car but not my debit card. So about 9:00 p.m. I head over to a nearby AM/PM and pull up to a pump—#7 to be precise. I was feeling lucky but it turns out that #7 wouldn’t accept cards so I had to inconveniently venture inside the convenience store.
The line was only a couple people long and would have proceeded quickly had it not been for the cultured dude with saggy pants in front of me. Fruit of the Loom was his name and taking forever to pay was his game. I couldn’t wait for this bruh to be done so I could show everyone behind me how to pay fast at an AM/PM counter—have your card out, know your pump number and know what amount you want on that pump...rehearse it a couple times in your head and when it’s your turn...let er rip. I like to set the bar high and pay for gas in less than 30 seconds when a personal visit is required with the attendant.
Well, Fruit of the Loom finally paid and left..it was my turn now. And then the poker game started...I didn’t know I was in for a treat. But it was time to get my fun on. I told the lady at the counter that I wanted $40 on #7 cause I was feeling lucky. I got no response. No chuckle. No smirk. She was all biznazz.
She punched a few buttons and stared at her machine. I called her bet and stuck in my card and punched my buttons and stared at my machine. She continued to stare at her machine and I kept staring at mine. Neither of us flinched.
Then she made her second bet by glancing toward me...I called her glance...and quietly waited for her next move. I wanted to put on some sunglasses and earbuds to really get into the poker-feel but it was nighttime and my ears are so small that earbuds don’t fit.
As the game continued, she bet a raised eyebrow and I called that bet and did my best Dwayne Johnson eyebrow raise...and raised her a head tilt. She called my head tilt and went all in with a hefty sigh. You could tell she thought I didn’t know what I was doing. She thought she had a better game than me, but I knew what hand I was holding. All the while my plan to show people how to pay quickly at at AM/PM had been long jettisoned. I can’t avoid a good staring contest when I know I’m gonna win. So after she goes all-in and sighs at me, I call her all-in bet with a release of a sigh...nay, dare I say a death breath and I smote her and took away all the pomp and arrogance that an AM/PM clerk has ever dared to muster and I say, “my machine says waiting for attendant.”
She looked down at her machine in defeat and realized I am the better player at this game. I swooped my arms forward and hugged my chipped card like a poker player gathering that fat pile of chips after a healthy win. She asked if I wanted a receipt but I wanted her to have something to remember me by so I said, “Nah, you can keep it!” And I strolled out of the AM/PM facility knowing I had won.
Then I saw saggy pants dude at the gas pump and realized he wasn’t taking forever to pay—he was playing poker, too. I felt bad for having misjudged him so harshly. Lesson learned.
So the lesson of the day is this: never judge a guy on how saggy his pants are and by how much time he spends at the counter of an AM/PM. He could just be getting gas for his daughter and he might just be having a good time waiting for the attendant to press the right buttons on her machine so he can finish paying and leave.
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