So, St. Patty's is coming up and their is green and four leaf clovers all over the place and it reminded me of a story. My older sister was in Dallas on a conference and I went up their from Austin to meet her. We picked up her friend and went to have delicious sushi for dinner and went to a bakery for dessert. It was awesome.
On the way back to my Sister's hotel we are driving through the middle of nowhere and I really need gas. Lo and behold a lone Shamrock station appears in the distance.
I pull into the nearly deserted gas station. I say nearly because there was a group of three men with what I can only describe as a dune buggy at the other pump. (Are dune buggy's like a thing in Dallas?)
As I prepare to get out of my car to fill my gas tank my sister grabs my arm and starts pointing out the window in alarm. One of the men is coming over to the car and trying to talk to me through the window. In my anxiety driven mind I start to plot my escape route should this exchange go south. I mean, two lone women in a deserted gas station in the middle of nowhere at night just screams horror film murder. So I plant my hand firmly on the door and open my window just a crack, if he tries anything funny I'll ram him with the door and drive off.
"You're not from around here are you?" He says.
Why no creepy dune bug stranger but I'm not telling you that! "I'm on my way back into Dallas" is what I say.
"Oh cause the gas here really sucks" is his reply.
Now contemplate with me for a moment this sentence. The gas here really sucks...like the price is bad? No. He literally meant that the quality of the gas here was worse than any other gas station. I'm not sure how that is even possible and am trying to get my mind around that statesmen so all I say is:
"But that store has some pretty good drugs" is his next statement.
Yep. Nope I'm done. Fuck this. I pull up my window and tear out of the parking lot so fast my tires are screeching. I can't even remember if I replied to him as I sped off.
Not until I am a safe distance away do I look over at my sister and we both start laughing historically. Suffice to say I am never going to a shamrock station for gas again. Even if it's St. Patrick's day.