Late Night Gas Station Crew

A place I hang out on Saturday nights after work; whenever I leave, it feels like I've played a part in something different..almost like a movie scene.

There's an old gas station

situated at a four way intersection

On 2920.

It's been there since the early nineties,

or so every one says.

The fuel pumps work slowly,

clicking with each gallon.

Takes about 10 minutes to pump

half a tank for me.

I go there on Saturday nights,

after work around eight or so.

I can always count on a good conversation with the clerk

a pretty blonde in her early forties.

She stands about five foot ten,

she's slim and though

her smile is tired,

it's friendly.

While the gallons tick away,

she'll join me out front

for a chat

and a smoke.

The chilly November wind

whips our hair about our faces

and tangles our smoke into the strands.

Our voices mingle with the sounds from the road:

revving engines

 sirens

 backfires.

We talk about life

school

work

family.

Nothing of any consequence.

But it's these Saturday nights,

sitting with her

and other customers 

on the curb

where I feel like I'm a part of a community.

A working class community

 called life.  

Author's Note

Reviews welcome
Just a peek into something I enjoy about a "small town"
Again, I don't have a particular writing style and I don't care to write typical poetry.

Reviews

[Relic]

I really enjoyed reading this. I love the americana feel to it and your talent for storytelling is evident with every line. Well done, Eve.