She checked her lipstick in the rearview mirror. Looking good was part of what she did – what she had to do. She was down to her last few dollars, and that had to make it all the way to New York. She’d have to resort to plan B. She put her blinker on and started to turn into the beat up looking Texaco, but a beat up old dinosaur of a car almost ran her off the road.
“Take a walk, jerk!” she screamed at the rapidly retreating tail-lights.
She pulled the car up to the gas island and took a deep breath to gather herself. She never understood what possessed people to drive like that. She’d driven all the way from the island and was amazed at the behavior of people when they were behind the wheel of a car.
She pumped four dollars of gas into the VW, far more than she had the ability to pay for – but then again, she didn’t plan on paying. Not with cash, anyway. She glanced over at the booth. It contained a young man, maybe eighteen and obviously a local. He looked simple. A dirty old man would have been easier, but this wasn’t beyond her skill. She tottered over to the window to speak to him
They talked for a few moments – the boy shook his head emphatically at first, but his resistance visibly faded as she leaned over to give him a better view. Eventually his defenses broke down and he escorted her through the employees door and into the back room of the booth.
Fifteen minutes later she was driving down the highway toward the lights of the big city, humming to herself as she reapplied her lipstick.