Gas Station Gallery of Art

Local Pump'N'Pay

I hate going to the gas station after dark. I'm not afraid of getting robbed, mugged or molested. I'm afraid of the situations I might witness. The conversations I might hear and be scarred by. It happened last night. It was dark and stormy out (no really), David and I decided late night snackies were in order. We tried the Shiv Mart... But they close early. We considered the corner Amoco, but there were a gang of hooligans loitering about outside. And so we drove to the Kangaroo station up the road. As we pulled into the parking space a wave of customers rolled in. I was able to dart from the car and enter the store first. I was alone in the store for the first couple of minutes. Because it wasn't my usual gas station I was having trouble finding what I wanted. (I might add that this gas station does not have Swiss Cake Rolls. What the hell kind of gas station doesn't have Swiss Cake Rolls?) Suddenly I heard a noise. It was schh, schh, schh. The non-diegetic sound you hear when the killer is stalking poor Jamie Lee Curtis... And I could not, for the life of me, figure out where it was coming from.

Finally I saw a young man standing behind a stack of boxes in the middle of an aisle. Other than the clerk he was the only one in the store. So he must be making the creepy killer noise. As he began to move towards the counter I followed him. I have this weird tick where if it's at all possible, I'd rather be at the end of a line in a gas station.

So I'm standing behind this guy who looked to be 23 or 24. He was dressed in typical frat boy fashion, blue and white checkered shirt from the Gap and khakis. He was, of course, purchasing a suitcase of Bud Lite. To our right was a shelf full of the "made in Taiwan" crap that most gas stations sell. I hear the young man say, "How much for the poker playing dogs?"

At this strange statement my head shot up. I looked to see what he was referring to. It was a cheesy 2-D picture of poker playing dogs. Sort of a perverted version of a bas relief, but with garish dogs instead of saints...

"Those are $20." The woman replied.
"Oh,"said the young man, "I don't have that much on me. It's cool though."
"Yeah, there's four of them. They're real nice."
"Hmm, I'll have to talk to my roommates."
"Oh, you should. They're hand-painted you know. They'll be worth something one day."
"I'll tell them that. You might see me tomorrow night."
"Don't forget to tell them there's four, 'cause you want the whole collection you know."

So here's my question: Was this guy serious? Or was he just messing with this clerk? And exactly where does one hang a loud bas relief of dogs playing poker? I mean, is that like a den piece or a hallway piece? And when the roommates move out who keeps the dogs? Do they divvy them up? 'Cause you don't want to split the set up, they might be worth something one day.