Gasoline and a J...

So a funny thing happened to me at the gas station last night.

It's around 2:30 AMish when I'm cruise'n into the local gas station to gas up the ghetto ride. I usually always go late at night when I can, 'cause I hate lines and at the buttcrack of the night, there's usually nobody around.

I walk inside the station to pay in cash for my gas and I notice the attendant isn't at the counter. I see him pop out of the backroom and tell me to hold up for a second, so I just chill and walk around the snack isles, contemplating the relative benefits of sipping a 40 and eating sunflower seeds.

After about 5 minutes or so, the attendant walks out, apologizes, and gets behind the counter... tall, lanky brother with a Mariners jacket on. He kicks up a conversation with me, mentioning that he's seen me around lots of times. He's also got a slight accent, but I can't place it... South African? Nigerian? I dunno. I recognize him too, being that from 1-3ish, that's the prime hours I gas up the car.

Seems pretty normal right?

Gas attendant: So what're you doing now?
Me: Not much, just graduated from college a year ago, so now I'm working temporary jobs and live'n back here in ghetto Kent / Renton.
Ah, that's good, that's good. You know, you got that special vibe... you got that positive aura, I can feel it.
Haha. Ummm, thanks.

One of my eyebrows is now raised.

Gas attendant: I got like a special mission for you... since you seem like a cool guy...
Me: Hahaha... riiight...

We laugh and attendant comes around from the counter and motions for me to go out front to the pumps with him. I notice him turning to look at the mini-market camera as we leave. Hrmm... as he walks closer by, I notice a faint smell... naw, it couldn't be...

As we come outside, the gas man leans in whispers a question, half laughing...

Hey yo... do I smell like weed?

I resist the urge to not laugh too hard. I respond nonchalantly.

Naw, dude... you're cool...
You sure? I don't gotta brush my teeth or change my clothes or nuthin'?

I shake my head.

Blazed gas attendant smiles, and we walk back into the station. I finally pay for my gas, and walk out to my car to pump it. As I'm pumping the gas, gas attendant man exits the station again and walks over to a nearby parked van, where I guess his friend is chillin'.

We exchange chin checks as I pump my gas and he blazes another J. He stands a healthy distance from the pump, which definitely isn't a bad thing.

Ah, life in Kent / Renton...

Random note:

Man, Digital Gravel is so sexy... I love it when they get new gear.

• BOLO
  
• Soul Power
  
• Lion of Judah
  
• Krush Groove'n
  
• EVAQ

posted by G at 3:50 PM   |

in?scrip?tion (n-skrip-shun)n.
1. The act or an instance of inscribing.
2. Something, such as the wording on a coin, medal, monument, or seal, that is inscribed.
3. A short, signed message in a book or on a photograph given as a gift.
4. The usually informal dedication of an artistic work.
5. Jeremiah 31:33