walter the gas station poet

i was standing next to ruby outside the EZ Stop, a rundown gas station located at the end of Newly Invented Road, which is like a block away from my house. i was fueling up ruby roo, because she was breathing fumes and i had to meet la familia (someday i will check with sister #4’s jose about all my fake spanish). i stood there shivering, watching the dollars click away into ruby’s tank, and wondered if the pillow imprints would fade from my cheeks before breakfast.

that’s when i saw walter. walter’s a 50something man who works at the EZ Stop, he told me once that he was a poet. i haven’t read any of his work, yet.

“hey girlfriend,” he shouts at me even though he is only about 10 feet away. “long time no see.”
“hi.” i smiled at him and removed my left hand from my warm armpit to wave.
“we still cool?” he asked.
“sure,” i said. i couldn’t even begin to imagine why me and the gas station poet would ever be uncool, but i played along because it was sunday morning and the dollars were still slowly clicking by and he didn’t seem to be alarmed by the stick-uppiness of my bedhead.
“HAPPY HALLOWEEN!” he shouted.
“i’m on my way to church. god bless you!”
“well thank you,” i said.” i need all the blessings i can get.”
“you going to church?”
“well god bless you anyway.” he said and then started to cross the parking lot away from me. he stopped, and turned back as i put the pump back. “do you play guitar?”
“nope, haven’t ever played,” i said.
“oh, well HAPPY HALLOWEEN and GOD BLESS!” he said as he turned back around and walked away to church.

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1 Comment

  1. Damon 31.Oct.04 at 10:57 pm

    Least Walter has reconciled the idea of Halloween and his attending church having very little to do with each other. I’ve heard multiple stories in the past week about a few people wanting to reschedule Halloween to Saturday in order to avoid it being celebrated on “God’s Day”.