Step Up, Friendo

I had to run up to Fargo the other night. 

Fargo is the gas station complex a few miles from here, located near a major highway exit and also a turnpike exit.  Lots of strange people just passing through.  Possibly on the lam.  I call it Fargo because I’ve seen and experienced some strange things at that place.  Like the Coen Brothers have set up all the scenes.  And the strangeness has been so consistent over the years that it wouldn’t surprise me at all to pull into the parking lot one day and see someone’s leg sticking out of a wood chipper.

These days I expect a tap on the shoulder only to hear, "Call it, Friendo."

I’d start calling it No Old Gas Station for Blue Girls, (My friendo would like the sound of that) but, I like the sound of Fargo better.

The other night, around 10, I was out of Advil and had a headache from being out in the sun all day, and Fargo was the only place open.

I walked into the station, grabbed a box of Advil, and before I could step to the counter, a young guy stepped in front of me. 

Well, fine!

He was sunburned with bloodshot, blue eyes and short blonde hair.  He was pretty cute.  And pretty drunk, I think.  But, definitely pretty ridiculous.  He was very impressed with himself as he asked the young girl behind the counter for a box of Tiparillos.

Oh, how sophisticated.  Hurry up!  I have a headache!

His two friends were goofing off several feet away by the coffee machine and one yelled, “Get an extra box!”

The young girl behind the counter gave him another box, took his money and the three of them left.

Ten seconds later the thirty-something manager ran up to my right and spoke in low, urgent tones to the young female cashier.

I didn’t hear what he said to her.  And all of a sudden, there was lots of commotion.

“What?  What’s going on?” I asked the manager.

I’m thinking...a shooting?  Mass murder?  Al-Qaeda?  Legs in wood chippers?

“She sold him tobacco!  He’s not old enough!”

As the young girl ran to the front door, she yelled, “I can’t get fired!”

I stopped, turned around and looked at the guy, who was easily eight or nine years older than her.  And more importantly, bigger than her.

“Are you really sending that young girl out into the dark parking lot alone to confront three guys?”

“Yeah.  Well.  It’s illegal.”

“You should go out there with her!”

He stood there, stunned, staring straight ahead, eyes as big as quarters, and choked out, “I don't want to go out there.  I’m, I’m...I’m not brave.”

“Oh, for crying out loud.  You shouldn’t send a young girl out alone like that!”

Just then a police officer walked through the front door with Mr. Tiparillo.  And the young, scared girl. 

The police officer wanted to see the manager.  As I left the station, he still hadn't stepped up.

Comments

[Amy]

You'll have to go back to Fargo now - we need story resolution! Did the girl get fired? Did the gutless manager have to pay a fine? Did he get fired? I can't live without knowing!

[Jennifer]

I'm not sure I'd be too afraid of someone smoking Tiparillos! (Of course who knows what other evil is lurking within the Fargo parking lot!) I can't believe they still make them.

I'm trying to think of the jingle, but all I have in my head is the one for Muriels...

"Light up a Muriel and light up your life!"

Yes, I'm old enough, I remember tobacco commercials.

[Jennifer]

BG- I forgot to add... I bet if the next time you find yourself in the creepy Fargo parking lot, you're carrying a toad, everyone will leave you alone. Just sayin'...

[Jeremy]

Are Tiparillos those funny cigar things with plastic mouthpieces? Stupid invention, for smokers who don't like to smoke. Just as all those alcopops are booze for people who don't like to drink. As for the manager, I hope you'll be a ource when the story makes it to the local rag's Police Blotter column.

[Skimmer]

Aw yes, cigars with training wheels. Remember them well. Our starter cigars were swisher sweets. Nothing like a swisher and a vat of slow gin fizzes. It's pukefest baby!

[Brando]

BG should carry the toad, have a Tiparillo in her mouth, and be wearing a Three Bulls Full Frito T-shirt. No one would mess with her.

I can't believe the manager sent the cashier out to deal with it. It takes real balls to be that ball-less.

[Rotten McDonald]

Of course, you had a headache, licking toads all day with Jennifer....

"I'm not brave" - classic.

FYI, and OT and to the world in general, I wore my Full Frito t-shirt to Summerfest.

Also my Internet Traditions t-shirt.

[Jennifer]

Nothing like a swisher and a vat of slow gin fizzes. It's pukefest baby!

I think most people have made that mistake or witnessed that mistake at least once in a lifetime. Sloe Gin Fizzes could be replaced with Cherry Vodka... they're interchangeable.

FYI, and OT and to the world in general, I wore my Full Frito t-shirt to Summerfest.

Grizzled has taken the Full Frito on the train before. He once took the "Thank You, Cookie Jesus" mug to work, but caught some crap from uptight rightwingers.

[fish]

BG should carry the toad, have a Tiparillo in her mouth, and be wearing a Three Bulls Full Frito T-shirt. No one would mess with her.

You forgot the pith helmet (please keep it away from the frog), and the giant sunglasses.

[Jennifer]

I don't think you should even suggest pith in front of a frog.

[Lucy]

I'm still laughing over legs in the wood chipper.

I really want to know if the poor girl kept her job, although she might be better off working for someone...braver.