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Scooter at the Gas Station (anecdote)

Setting: at the gas station convenience store. I’m about to purchase a comically large bag of sour patch kids for a boardgame party. There are two early twenty-something aged cashiers, one man and one woman.


Woman: Ok, $6.53


(I’m putting my credit card away by flipping my wallet open)


Man: Why are you holding a scooter?


(His eyes are locked on the red Razor in my left hand, when I tilt toward him, his eyes swivel.)


Me: Because I ride it


Him: Did you ride it here?


Me: In the parking lot


Him: That’s so cool!


Me: Want me to assemble it?


Him: Will you ride it in the store?


Me: I figured I would get in trouble, but sure!


(I squeeze the latch lock to drop the ride platform and loose the handlebars’ collar compression fixture.)


Me: Actually, would you like to ride it instead?


(His swiveling head reaches its goal in under three seconds, I hand him the scooter. He rides past the beverage aisle.)


Him: So smooth…


Me: One of the best tag sale purchases I’ve ever made: $5


(He hands in back to me.)


Him: Thanks


Me: You’re welcome


(I mount, then shove out the push door.) Me: Bye!


Shaving with my Razor


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