Part 4: I'm Good Enough, I'm Spendy Enough, and Doggone It, Smiley Likes Me

In the conclusion of our four-part series unofficially titled A Day in the Sweet Life of Val Thevictorian, Small-Town Celebrity...we fittingly drop by The Gas Station Chicken Store. It's my last stop every day, including last Wednesday, which was fraught with a thinner-shouter, a name-dropper, and a well-meaning lottery-tipper.

As I filled my 44 oz foam cup at the soda fountain, there were two customers ahead of me. A short-haired lady had just taken her food from the chicken counter and moved to the main counter. A dude lurked around the chicken case, looking at the wares. I was betting that I could have my magical elixir lidded and ready for payment before Dude got his order.

I stepped toward the counter, but was partially blocked by Dude. That happens. It's a narrow aisle. I figured Dude would eventually move over to grab his chicken, but right now, he was semi-turned to the register, listening as Smiley the cashier made small talk with Short-Hair.

Smiley is always smiling. Never met a stranger. But I had a feeling she knew Short-Hair. The conversation (sorry, if you don't want it blogged, get a cone of silence) was about how Smiley had been working at another convenience store out on the highway, near the furniture store where we got The Pony's cheap basement couch.

Apparently, something had gone amiss at the other store, and Smiley left to come back to her roots at The Gas Station Chicken Store.

"I'm from here. I'm a home-town girl. I've been back two years now."

They whispered (darn that cone of almost-silence) about whatever unpleasantry plagues that other store. Then Short-Hair said,

"Uh huh. I thought so."

Dude had been listening in as well, and nodded. Imagine my surprise when it dawned on me that Dude was a LADY! She was with Short-Hair. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I had not been paying close attention. Clothing around Backroads is pretty informal. Jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers are worn by everyone. They gathered up their chicken and bade goodbye to Smiley. She bid them a fond farewell, doing nothing to debunk my theory that they knew each other. In fact, Smiley's words were,

"Okay, babe. See you around."

My turn now. Smiley asked how I was doing. I replied that I was doing well, even though I'd been to Walmart. Smiley commiserated with me.

"Oh, I HATE to go to Walmart!"

"Me, too."

"Don't get me started on those lazy people who drive up to pick up their groceries!"

"I KNOW! You can hardly get down the aisles for all the shoppers putting stuff in bins to deliver to them."

"I figure if you're too lazy to go inside, you don't need that food."

"I want to pick out my OWN items! I swear, if I was one of those shoppers, I'd give them all the bad stuff. The dented cans, the crumpled boxes, the bruised bananas..."

"Ha ha. I would, too!"

My transaction completed with correct change, I thanked Smiley and turned to leave.

Smiley said, "Thanks, babe. Take care."

If anyone had been behind me, they might have assumed Smiley and I were longtime buds.