Page 70 - WTP Vol. X #7

GasCo (continued from preceding page)
That polo must have been made from the cheapest material in the world. It itched like crazy, and was so small you couldn’t wear anything underneath. I kept holding my elbows up on the drive there to keep it from itching my armpits. Tony was in the parking lot, bright and early, as usual.
“Holy shit, pops!” he said. “Tell me they makin’ you wear that!”
“Hey Tony,” I said with a smile.
“Sign looks pretty good!” he said. “You can see that thing all the way from the highway.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s pretty bright.”
I had to explain to Brent when he got there about the shirts. He wasn’t happy: the kid had worn nothing but black since he got to high school.
“This is the worst kind of corporate bullshit,” he said. “Well, you’re working for the corporate bullshit now.”
Paul showed up around five. He walked in all put together in a button-down tucked into his jeans, hair waved back. face clean-shaven, big smile on his face.
“Looking good!” he said, rapping his knuckles on the counter. I could tell he said that every time he did this.
He spent forever going over little policies with me. Inventory was going to be impossibly strict—prices were set by corporate, and we had to keep track of every single item. Eating a candy bar was now a fire- able offense.
“Also,” he said, “when I was here before, I saw sometimes people leave their cars in the lot overnight, but we don’t do that. So tell people you know not to park there, because from now on, they’ll get towed.”
“All right,” I said. “Who’s gonna tow ‘em?”
He looked at me like he didn’t quite understand.
“Well... we’ll call a tow truck.”
“But who’s gonna call that truck?” I asked. “We’re not open overnight.”
He thought about this.
“Well, we’ll have to figure out a policy,” he said. “Oh, and no more paying after you pump. I’m sorry I didn’t
notice that before.”
He shook his head and adjusted his glasses. As far as he knew, he and I were on the same side.
“If they select Pay Inside, it should shut the pump off until they come in and pay, and then you turn it on.”
“Yeah, I know. I just usually turn it on before they come in so they can pay for the exact amount. We’ve had like three people drive off without paying in the last decade.”
“Well, we don’t do that.”
“Okay,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ll have them prepay.”
“Most of our stations have controls for a present amount. We’ll have to get that installed. I can’t believe how old this one is. The way it is now, they could pay you 10 bucks and pump 20 and drive off. So for now, you need to have them give you a license or credit card to hold.”
“So they have to come in here twice?”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Yeah, just for a week or two. Hold their license or a card until they’ve pumped, and then they can come back and pay the difference.”
I shook my head. There was no logic, but there was no Paul, really. He was the mouthpiece of a company and therefore did not have to defend anything he said.
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