Update on Gas Station Guy, the one on whom I have a secret
crush.
I have to run errands in the morning, and I decide I should
probably fill up my gas tank since I don't intend to drive very far (if at all)
over the next few days. In between the
bank, the grocery store (just to get a gift certificate - I'm not insane going
grocery shopping two days before Christmas on a weekend), Dunkin Donuts, the
pharmacy, the liquor store, and the chiropractor, I head to my favorite little
gas station on the corner of Main and Chestnut Streets.
I pull in, roll down the window, and instead of saying,
"Hello, my dear," my favorite Gas Station Guy calls to me,
"Hello, my favorite teacher! How
are you today?"
We share the usual banter, and then he asks, "How are
things? Everything good?"
"Yes," I tell him, "I'm on vacation."
He takes my debit card, starts pumping the gas, then hands
me back not only the card but also a small candy cane.
"Thank you," I say, "I have a sweet
tooth."
With this he reaches into his coat pocket and produces a
lollipop from the dozen or so he has hidden there. The candy is wrapped in holiday
cellophane. "Here," he says,
smiling, "Merry Christmas!"
I haven't really been in the Christmas spirit this year. As a matter of fact, I took all of my usual
Christmas toys and props and packed them back up, returning them all to the
basement, just last night. I left up the
tree and a few knick-knacks, but that's all. Reading the newspaper columns and listening to
talk radio, I'm not the only one lacking Christmas spirit this year. I don't know if it's all the terrible news,
the tanking economy, or just general collective malaise, but I am leaning more
to the side of Bah Humbug than ever before.
This random act of holiday goodness has cheered my soul, and
for the first time all season, I am feeling Christmas joy. By 9:10 a.m., the last of my shopping is done,
including a bottle of wine, and I am off to the chiropractor then home. Christmas music is on the car stereo, I am
humming then singing along, and all is suddenly right with the world. I no longer feel like Scrooge; I feel like Bob
Cratchit or Ebenezer's jolly nephew Fred.
I feel like Tiny Tim because I am holding the coveted candy cane and lollipop
of good cheer!
As I'm driving toward my house, feeling all Christmasy and
joyous, one Dickens-esque thought keeps popping through my mind: "Gas Station Guy bless us… Yes, Gas
Station Guy bless us, every one!"
Happy holidays to all!
May you get your own candy cane and Christmas lollipop of good cheer
this season.
