Morning Commute: Stories from a Gas Station and Martin Luther King
I stopped into my local gas station this morning for the usual Sugar Free Red Bull®, 5-Hour Energy® and to top off the tank before my morning commute. The counter clerk, a young woman, is the same one I see most days of the week. We exchange pleasantries nearly every morning of the week, this young woman and I — a task for my part since I tend toward introspection, particularly as I launch that commute. But I couldn’t help myself from establishing this relationship because the first time I encountered her was her first day on the job.
She was clearly frustrated, rapidly approaching a point of overwhelm, her eyes reflecting the quiet terror of a caged animal looking for escape, and she wasn’t getting any help from her peers at all. I watched her quietly, standing in a line with six or seven people in front of me and more still behind; waiting as patiently as my nature will allow as she checked off one customer after another, slowly but consistently. Her cohorts stood in a small gaggle of three or four some ten feet away and visible to us all, backs turned to her and the crowd before her, laughing at some (apparently) profound and hilarious anecdote. My heart went out to her.
I’ve been her.
By the time she got to me, I could see tears threatening to escape the safety of her eyes, but she held them back. I smiled, tried to make small talk; her eyes remained focused on the screen before her, fiercely concentrated either on the price of my Red Bull® or some demon about to make its way from the electronic glare reflecting in her pupils. I leaned across the counter just enough to whisper to her privately, “It’ll get easier, I promise. Just breathe.” She glanced up only as briefly as her flooding eyes would allow and smiled a small smile.
She’s been my ‘friend’ ever since.
But this morning is different. As I stand in line — this time only one person ahead of me — a young Hispanic man hands her a five dollar bill muttering quietly, “Cinco dólares en la bomba de tres por favor.”…
