So thanks to modern technology, you don’t have to talk to anyone at the gas station anymore. You just pay outside with a credit card. But sometimes I buy a lottery ticket when I fill up (I know, it’s stupid, but it’s a better vice than Slim Jims).
The new me was required to ask, “Whatcha reading?”
He lifted the book to show me. It was “Of Mice and Men.” Seriously.
Now I’m not going to get drawn into some awful stereotype about the average intelligence of a gas station attendant. But I’d be lying if I wasn’t surprised. I read “Of Mice and Men” in high school. Or maybe even junior high. I don’t really remember. But I’ve never seen anyone reading it who didn’t have braces.
So out of surprise, I blurted out, “Oh, great book. It’s a classic. I was totally traumatized when George had to shoot Lennie.”
He looks at me like, “What the fuck, dude?”
It never occurred to me that this was the first time he was reading it. Oops. I guess I should have said, “Spoiler alert.”
I totally turned red. I just said, “One Super Lotto Plus, please.”
I passed a one dollar bill across the counter and he printed out my ticket. I think the law requires him to say “good luck” because he did, even though he clearly didn’t mean it.
I said thanks and got the hell out of there.