He comes up to the counter
with a slip of paper.
I owe him money.
He grins the grin
of a typical sleazy guy
and asks "Want to argue with me?"

Caught off my guard,
I reply "Why would I?"

He shrugs and flashes that grin again.
I think he thinks he's flirting.
"For the fun of it."

He's in his thirties,
and rather grubby.
I'm eighteen,
and for all that I work in a gas station,
(at the moment),
I like to be clean.

Unable and not wanting
to even remotely flirt back,
I give him my infamous, cold
Raised Eyebrow look
and say "You have an odd idea of fun."

I give him his money
and as he hands me the receipt
he tries to brush my arm.
He looks at me, still with that grin,
"I probably would've won anyway."
He winks.
"Later chicky," and leaves.

I wipe my arm off
and after he's gone
still can't decide whether to be
more repulsed at his advances
or more amused at his obviously off-base ego.

05/28/2003

Posted on 05/28/2003
Copyright © 2024 Amanda J Cobb