Jan 20 2010

An Ode to the Crack Whore Gas Station Attendant

Category: Local GoodnessAlice @ 6:22 pm

gas stationDear Crack Whore Gas Station Attendant,

I love you the most.

You don’t try to engage me in conversation at 6am when all I want in the world is some caffeine.

You mumble the amount of purchase, avert your eyes and take my money – thus making the world exactly how it should be.

Though your thong may be visible and you may be so high that you think my purple handbag is giant cat that I am holding, I don’t judge.

And you don’t judge my early morning purchase of $3.87 of Unleaded and a Ding Dong.

You are so much better than:

1. Young white guys who think they’re black:

Put your hat on straight and pull up your pants. You look like an idiot.  Stop acting like you are from the hood. I saw your green 08 Corolla with the Bayou Desiard Country Club sticker parked out front. You are embarrassing yourself.

2. Middle aged black people who like to talk about the Lord.

I understand that you feel blessed and happy at 6am, but please respect the fact that I am only holding back a big “Fuck You” by the grace of the deepest reaches of my inbred Southern charm.  You tell me I look like an angel from heaven until you notice my tattoos and begin looking worried about my soul.  By all means, pray for me. Put me on the list. But please just give me my fucking coffee first.

3. Old mean and nasty white women.

Any unfortunate soul who has traveled down Louisville Avenue near the bridge and wanted a morning coffee and paper knows exactly who I am talking about.  You are a legend. You are mean and nasty and deserve to die.  Don’t look at me as if I just ate your only unborn baby when I am just trying to buy a fucking cup of coffee.  I didn’t do anything to you.  Fuck off.

4. Young white guys who think they’re funny.

You are the worst.  I avoid the Shell station at Well Road because of you. I can fully assure you that I am not impressed by your Cartman impersonation.  Don’t comment about my t-shirt, don’t tell me you like my tattoo and please, please don’t try to charm me with your witty banter.  I don’t care that you have a wheat penny. You are neither witty nor charming and I don’t like you.  Stop trying to talk to me and just give me my damn Swiss Cake Roll.

Muah!

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7 Responses to “An Ode to the Crack Whore Gas Station Attendant”

  1. fluidzen says:

    I too love the crack whore attendant.
    And she always calls me baby.

  2. Ned says:

    This post made me bookmark your blog.

  3. admin says:

    Thanks!

  4. Uncle B says:

    America the beautiful – even gas station attendants can afford crack! Thank You Columbia! Thank you Mexico! for making this corporatist nation bearable.

  5. stew says:

    Haha I love this, such a creative intro to a rant.

  6. greenanarchy says:

    the blog of a privileged valley girl.
    I think you are a cancer.

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