The guy at the gas station

This true scenario, and many other before it, are the reason I started this blog. My friends have also sited a myriad of other situations where they either felt attacked/scared/pressured/uncomfortable/angry/whateverwhatever- or all of the above- with random strange men on the street/in bars/in coffee shops/at their place of work/whereeverwhereever who approach them.

Yesterday on a famous Seattle gloomy, rainy, melancholy father's day Sunday, I had just gotten off one of the worst days of work I've had in a while. I work in one of the busiest, loudest, most chaotic brunch cafes in the city and naturally on most major holidays, people are more stressed out than is normal and therefore, bigger assholes. ESPECIALLY, on Mother and Father's day (more so Mother's day). I owe this to the fact that these are the days when parents are forced to feel "special" and therefore, everything MUST go according to plan or it's ruined! And guess who they put the blame on ruining their entire experience? Their server! AK, ME!

So anyway. I'm not in the best mood. I go to get some gas and as I'm pumping, this guy out of NOWHERE scares the living shit out of me. He's holding a little gas canister.

"Excuse me, miss. I'm wondering if you could help me. I don't want any money or anything I just need some gas."

Dumbfounded by the way he worded the question ("I don't want any money, I just want something from you that costs money and I need you to pay for it"), I asked, "Do you have any money?"

He laughs, "No, I dont. I just need gas."

I genuninely thought about it for a few seconds. What's the harm? Well, first of all, I don't know this person at all and they are asking me to put gasoline into a container they are holding. How do I know this guy isn't insane and just wants to light a bitch on fire? How do I know ANYTHING about this person other than my gut feeling?

Maybe I've just been watching too much American Horror Story, but my gut feeling was telling me no.

"No, I'm good." I turn my back.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

He kept pushing it.

"I just need some gas!"

I quickly turn around quickly, use my highest tone, "I already said no. Leave me alone now."

He got scared and scurried off.

It's not that I was angry at him for asking me for gas, it's that he kept pushing it after I had already said no. It is my right to say no. I don't ever have to do anything I'm uncomfortable with just because some stranger needs something. It might sound heartless but everyone has been in a shitty situation (being out of gas) and not having any way of getting out of it without the help of strangers (having a car but not having any money). However, if I were in his situation, I would have called someone to help me. Someone I knew. Not some random stranger who might tell me to get the fuck away from them. That's the thing about strangers: You don't know them or anything about them. But some people don't have that kind of support system in their lives. Those people are not my fucking problem.

I have also thought about alternate responses to him asking me for gas. Maybe if I had turned around and screamed at him about my day it would've understood more clearly. Here's the fantasy: Choking through the tears I've been holding back all day, I start screeching, "I'm sorry but did you work on Father's Day and get told that you were "horrible" because some dad didn't like the $23 kobe beef plate he ordered? And now his whole day was ruined?? No! You didn't! So I'd appreciate it if you would FUCK OFF BEFORE I CALL THE FUCKING POILCE!!!!!"

Basically what I'm saying is that I truly pity the fool who bothers me right after I've had a bad day at work. I'm an emotional wreck and might go a wol if you push it too far.

Later I was walking to the bus stop on a main street and from my peripherals I saw a car slowing down next to me. When I looked over, I noticed it was him. His bright red shirt and greasy ass hair gave him away. I had my headphones on but from lip reading I'm pretty sure he slowed down to say "You're a bitch!" after grumpily driving off. Luckily, in the time between the gas station and the bus stop, I put on my beanie that says "BAD GIRL" on it. I merely glanced in his direction before looking forward again.

Looking back on the situation, I could have verbalized how I felt to correspond with what my hat already indicated: "Yeah! I am! I'm really glad you noticed that!" or "Thank you for saying so!"

 I am beginning to embrace the word bitch because to me a man calling a woman a bitch because she doesn't want to do what they are asking of her is essentially like them saying, "I have no control over you!" which is exactly the kind of woman person I want to be! One who is not easily persuaded. One who stands up for herself. One who says no when she doesn't want to do something.

But I think the hat did a great job.