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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