This blog a day thing is tough. I have nothing whatsoever to write about: I’m tired as hell, I worked all day, I am right now having a glass of wine and playing minecraft and soon, oh blessedly soon, I’m going to feed the dogs and go to bed.
So I’m going to steal a story my son told me while I was driving him to work this evening. My son works in a gas station / convenience store in West Asheville. It is frankly kind of a skeezy one (as if there were unskeezy ones! Ha ha! It is to laugh! Well, actually there sorta are, but this is not one of those.) Besides the usual accoutrements of such establishments – brillo pads, baking soda, glass roses, cheap beer, long lighters, lottery tickets and everything else you might need for a weekend’s big ole crack binge – it has a couple of presumably basically illegal gambling machines which are, unsurprisingly, usually occupied by sad / skeezy people. As they were last night. It also has an alarm that sounds when the gas level in the tanks is getting low. Apparently it is a loud alarm. WAH! WAH! WAH!
My son was standing over by the poker machines watching these two guys playing poker when the alarm went off last night.
“What’s that” said one of the guys.”I – I don’t know!” said Miles, “I’ve never heard it before!” And he ran a few steps towards the front of the store then shouted “OH FUCK! It’s – the pressure is up! OH SHIT IT’S GONNA BLOW!”
And the two poker players in their haste to get off their stools and get the hell out of there lost their shit completely and started screaming and knocked over a display rack and scrambled towards the door. Which said son somehow foolishly failed to get on video but he described it vividly enough to me that I laughed hysterically all the way up Haywood Road.
I hope he does it again.