It Could Usually be Worse

If there's one thing I'll say for my new neighborhood, it's that it's never boring. On Sunday, I stopped for gas down the street. When I walked into the service station, the only working clerk was on her cell phone. Naturally, this annoyed me. Or, more accurately, it annoyed me when she stayed on the phone after seeing me standing at the register and continued to stay on the phone for another five minutes while she ignored me, the only customer in the store. And, when she did finally come over to see what I needed, don't think that she got off the cell phone even then. As she asked to see my id for the beer, she also asked "if I ever put up with any b***s***." I answered "no - especially from men" and waited for my total. (For those of you who know me, I recognize that this was wishful thinking on my part. I know that I often put up with bs from men - hence my unfortunate willingness to believe an ex who had many private dinners with his attractive "cousin." But, I feel it's ok to present myself as the more assertive version of myself I dream of being when it comes to strangers at the Amoco.) "Did you hear that?" she said into her phone. "Ladies don't like bs." And, even though I was only around because I still needed to get change, if I hadn't stayed because of the lackluster service, I would have missed the crucial meat of the conversation. "You can't be accusing me of cheating on you," she added, "when you're the one that got somebody else pregnant." I was able to forgive her for the cell phone nonsense after that. The scene reminded me of something I read a few years ago in an indie publication. I don't know if anyone has ever read "Found" magazine, but the entire periodical is just composed of random notes and scraps of paper found by people (hence that brilliant name). My favorite piece in "Found" ("article" or "story" seems misleading, considering) is a note found near a car. The note is obviously from a girlfriend to her boyfriend and says something to the effect of, "I can't believe I found your car at her house again. You are such a lying dog," before ending with the somewhat reductive, "Beep me later." I take it all as a reminder to have standards. Although I'm not the biggest fan, I think Greg Behrendt would consider cheating as a sign that "someone's just not that into you" (or sucky), and I would have to agree. And, if nothing else, he or she should have to sweat it out for at least a little while. So, let's all keep the girl from the gas station in our thoughts. When I run out of peanut M&M's, maybe I'll get to find out what became of it all.