Her brows come together.“I’ve never heard of anyone not liking the coffee at Mugs.”
“This wasn’t from Mugs.It was from here.”It’s the only other place I could find that sells coffee early in the morning.
The woman’s eyes widen.“You’re a brave man.I don’t think the coffee pot in this station has ever been cleaned.”
Well, that explains the grounds.I press my lips together, trying not to gag.
“I just assumed, when I saw the cup, that you’d gotten it from Chloe,” she goes on.
If only.“I’m banned from Mugs,” I say.At least until I develop a “better attitude.”Not sure that’s even possible at this stage in my life.
Her lips part in surprise.“How come?”
My smile feels more forced than usual.“Being too personable.”
She laughs so loudly that the guy at the next pump over starts staring at us.“What kind of coffee do you like?”she asks.
“Black.No sugar.”
She snorts an amused sound, like she can already tell that flavor suits me perfectly.She wouldn’t be the first person to think so.
“Tell you what,” she says.“You pump my gas, and I’ll save you from drinking tar.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ll get you a coffee from Mugs.”
I don’t even have to think about it.“It’s a deal.”One I’ll gladly take.Last night, I ordered a coffee maker, but it won’t arrive until next week.Back in Philly, they would’ve had it shipped and delivered by this evening.
This doesn’t bode well for the construction supplies I’m waiting for, either.
The woman slides her card into the slot, chooses the cheapest fuel pump, and then drags it over to me.
When I was little, there was a gas station near our house where workers used to pump gas for customers.Mom always loved going there, especially when there was a foot of snow on the ground.
I click the hold in place and round to the front of my new accomplice’s car to grab the squeegee from the side of the trash can.After shaking it out, I lift her wipers to give the windshield a good clean.
Scrubbing off the bugs is kinda satisfying.
Maybe I missed my calling.At least in this job, no one would get hurt.
I push that thought to the back of my mind.Now isn’t the time to spiral.
Twenty-three dollars later, the pump clicks off.
I put it away, replace the gas cap, and close the hatch.The woman shouts her thanks from the window and tells me to follow her to Mugs.Instead of parking where Chloe might see me, I pull into a spot beside a rusted old junker.
The lady parks right next to me, then steps out of her car, motioning for me to roll down my window.
“Give me your mug,” she says.
Oh, yeah.The mug.The one that currently looks like the drain pipe on a public toilet.Not sure I can bring myself to drink out of this thing ever again.
I drag a twenty from my wallet and hand it to her instead.“Mind grabbing me a new one?”
“No problem.Want anything else?”
I’ve had breakfast, but my options for lunch are scarce until I get to the grocery store.If I have her grab me lunch now, I could work straight through and wouldn’t even have to get to the store until tonight.I take out another ten.“Can you get me a Reuben too?”
