Service at the Gas Pump

Believe me when I tell you that, for the most part, I am intent on minding my own business. I don’t purposely seek out opportunities to interject my opinion, especially when it involves strangers. But on a particular day in the recent past, I spoke up. It all started innocently enough when I pulled into the service station to feed the starving gas tank of my Nissan truck. As I was pumping lifeblood into its body, my truck and I became privy to a rather loud conversation between a mother and her daughter at a neighboring island. “Guys can’t stand mouthy girls!” said the mom to her teenaged daughter, who I later discovered was seventeen. “What do you know, you’re too old to understand,” taunted the teen. The conversation was not contentious. It was light hearted and they were actually giggling at each other’s comments as the daughter pumped the gas. At one point, I think Mom realized it would have been impossible for me not to hear what was going on. So she turned to me and said, “You’re a man, tell her!” There are times in a person’s life where they wish they could just shrivel up into an invisible ball-shaped mass and slither away unnoticed. But not being one to shy away from interesting social interaction, I bit. I looked at the daughter and asked, “Well, first of all, young lady, how old are you?” When she informed me that she was seventeen, I looked at her mom and cried, “Aha! I have one of those at home, too. Isn’t it amazing how they become experts all of a sudden?” I had Mom at “Aha.” I turned toward the young lady and started my speech. “First of all, your mom is right. I am a man. Second, she’s right again. We don’t mind girls who talk a lot, but we get nervous around females who are mouthy and confrontational, if that’s what your mom is talking about. I overheard your mom say earlier that you were terrible at picking out guys. All I can tell you is to pick a guy because of his heart. Don’t be fooled by his looks, his smooth lines, or his car tires. Make sure he has a good heart.” Throughout my little sermon, I heard Mom popping off a couple “Amens” here and there. Emboldened by her support, I concluded by gently explaining to the young teen that she was lucky to have a mother who cared about her. I also told her that her mother was probably much wiser than she gave her credit for. The young girl didn’t seem to be irritated but I could tell she was ready to get out of Dodge. I wasn’t ready for them to pull off just yet because I was relatively certain Mom was going to hand me a twenty dollar bill and some change for my trouble. But monetary compensation evaded me. As they pulled away I noticed they were both smiling and laughing. I have no idea if they were laughing at each other, something on the radio, or that crazy Dr. Phil wannabe man in the truck at the gas pump. I really didn’t care which. As long as they’re laughing together and talking to each other, there’s hope. And that’s plenty of compensation for me.