There were only two times the police ever really showed any concern toward the station. One time was when
Justin was dismantling the Family Truckster in the parking lot, and then they only wondered what that crazy nut
was doing. The second time was when Bryan had gotten a new convertible Mercedes from his parents. The police
chief, Shaky Joe, and some of the older guys weren't really concerned but they had just hired a couple of new
guys and they would always come in laughing about it and asking how a gas pumper could afford that,
implying Bryan was selling drugs to pay for the car.
If it had been anybody else, they would have been right. But, they completely targeted the wrong guy, being
the complete stooges they were - Shaky Joe excluded; he was the coolest cop I've ever met, probably because he
had used drugs himself in the past, thus explaining his constant shakiness. In any event, Bryan was not a drug
dealer, though he did his fair share of pot and coke. Bryan's parents were extremely religious. I would call
them nut-cases but, who am I to judge that? When he was younger, Bryan had hidden some pot in the attic. His
parents had managed to find it. Bryan was certain he had hidden it so that it would be impossible to find, and
when he asked his parents how they knew where it was, they told him that God had guided them to it. Bryan was
deathly afraid of his parents, partly because they found his impossible-to-find pot and partly, I suspect,
because they paid for everything he had.
Bryan was a weazely looking guy with beady eyes, pinched nostrils and thin lips. He had blue eyes and
brown hair. He was spoiled rotten. His parents paid for his apartment, set him up with a nice entertainment
system and bought him the convertible. All for merely completing his first semester at a community college.
He lived in sin with his girlfriend, Wendy. They had a dog, Champ, named so because he was a blue-ribbon dog
show champion, though that had been years ago before they got him. Bryan was also into weird sexual fetishes,
which I got to hear all about night after night. He and Frog were the only two who ever actually looked at
the stack of porno magazines in the back room. Though, Justin did use them to make collages when he was
especially well pixied-up.
Wendy was a bit chubby and had a poofy blonde eighties hairdo. She was a farm girl from somewhere deep on
the Kansas side of the city - the gas station was in Kansas City, Missouri. She wasn't very bright, but then
neither was Bryan. She seemed a bit naive and wasn't very talkative. She was very loyal though and kind.
None of us, except Bryan, found her terribly interesting, but we liked her well enough. She could be
irritating at times, as she incessantly called Bryan at work distraught over the tiniest little things.
In some ways, I felt sorry for Bryan, because nobody would really have a lot to do with him. But I always
realized he brought it on himself. One year, on his birthday he could find nobody to celebrate with him. He
stopped by the gas station drunk and offered to bend me over the safe and do me in the ass while pulling on my
thick long hair. Regretfully, I couldn't take him up on the offer, explaining Stacy might not like it.
Bryan had been named Night Manager by Frog, after I declined the position. I had been at the station longer
than both Frog and Bryan and made more money there than both of them anyway. The only thing being Night Manager
would have gotten me is the slightest shred of responsibility, which I in no way desired. Later, Bryan would
move on to replace Jason as Frog's day shift stooge, but at the time, I was stuck with him on the Night Shift.
It was another unbearably hot Summer afternoon at the station when Bryan and I were taking turns going into
the backroom. Bryan was smoking pot and I was hitting off of an opium pipe. We were both startled by a shape
flitting by the side window. You could never be too careful with the cops based next door. I grabbed the can
of Glade we had sitting on the shelf with the oil and various other fluids and sprayed the room down, while
Bryan hid all the paraphernalia in the back room. It was the standard emergency procedure for whenever an
unrecognized visitor arrived. I only hoped Bryan did a better job hiding the stuff than he had with the bag
of pot at his parents' house. You never know when God might intervene again.
As it turned out, it wasn't a cop. It was a prostitute. She had walked over from the police station after
having spent the night in jail. She was short and pudgy with ratty short blonde hair. What teeth she still
had were horribly discolored and looked like corn kernels shoved at odd angles into her gums. She was wearing
a tank top, fuzzy pea-green shorts and was barefoot. She was carrying a plastic bag full of various items.
Bryan and I sat down in our respective chairs, pretending nothing out of the ordinary was going on.
"How ya boys doin' today?"
Oh shit, she spoke. This was the first step on a path that lead to a special place in Hell. I wrinkled my
nose subconsciously in response to her toothless smile, "we're cool. What's happening?"
The hooker sat down on the guest chair next to the safe. I made a mental note to sterilize it with bleach
before Stacy stopped by. "I been in lockup all night. They said I wuz doin' crack. I ain't no crack ho."
She certainly looked like a crack ho' to me. Not that I had ever really met any crack ho's - the gas station
was located in the center of a middle-class neighborhood - but they had them on Jerry Springer sometimes.
I began to notice the pungent stink of body odor wafting over from the hooker.
"So, what kind of ho' are you then?" I asked, desperate to get rid of this foul-smelling thing before she
stunk up the office worse than Poopie after a day in a milk processing plant.
"Why you gotta be dissin' on me, honey?"
I glanced over at Bryan thinking maybe he was finding this as amusing as me. He had a completely serious
look on his face and was listening intently to the conversation.
"I was just wondering, you know. I'm kinda bored here today."
The hooker reached into her bag and pulled out a makeup compact. She wiped the round applicator in the
makeup and began patting it on her face. I noticed several brown spiders scurry around her feet and run
outside to die. Something I had been seeing more and more at the gas station.
"You bored, honey? How ya like ta take me out tonight?"
My spine shivered and I laughed reflexively, "well, I was supposed to hang out with my girlfriend tonight..."
"You can bring her wit ya, honey, I don' mind."
Bryan was turning red and I think he was starting to salivate.
"Wow. That sounds really fun, but I don't think she'd go for it."
"I'd rock her world, honey. You too."
The thought of this... thing... rocking my world made my stomach turn. The thought of her rocking Stacy's
world... well... that was unholy. "We don't really do rock," I replied sarcastically.
"That too bad, honey. I like that thick hair and them big brown eyes you got." She was really turning up
the volume. She must have been insanely desperate to get her hands on some of those lucrative gas pumper
wages. She put away her makeup and began to move her hair around with her hand, not that it made any difference
at all. As I watched her, I realized she might have actually been attractive at some point in time. But she'd
definitely been around the block a few million times and the miles had taken their toll.
"Sorry, dude, not interested."
The hooker got up, much to my relief, "Okay, well you missin' out. We have a good time, baby." She walked
out the door and headed down toward the street. I turned to Bryan, ready to laugh about our visitor but he
was already on his way out the door.
* * * *
I'm not totally certain if Bryan's parents were still in so tight with God that He was still ratting out
their son to them, but if they had thought it bad he was hiding pot in the attic, I could only imagine what
they would think about where he had hidden his penis that night. I was made to promise not to tell anyone at
the station about his adventure with Angela the hooker. Of course, he went on to tell everyone himself - he
was proud of this... conquest... for some reason.
Bryan wasn't crazy enough to believe Wendy would ever go for something like a 3-way with a toothless crack
whore - I couldn't imagine why not - but he had quickly made up some lie about having to go help his
dad with a surprise gift for his mother that night. It was an admirable lie - I had to hand him that - Wendy
would never take it upon herself to confirm it with Bryan's parents, since she was as afraid of them as he was.
Since Bryan and Wendy were living in sin, his parents weren't exactly gracious to Wendy - in fact, she had to
leave her own apartment when they visited from somewhere out in Kansas. Bryan lied habitually and nobody at
work really ever believed a word he said.
Bryan began telling me the story of his wild adventure in River Front park with Angela the Gummy Hooker. I
couldn't really bear to hear the whole story and cut him off to suggest he might want to go get tested for a
disease before he got it on with Wendy. I mean, it was bad enough he was screwing around on her, it would be
pretty inhuman to give her some nasty disease in the process, after all.
"Yeah, man..." he replied, staring off into space.
I knew he wouldn't do it. I got up to get a car and when I returned Bryan was browsing through a "Juggs"
magazine featuring a 67 year old woman's drooping breasts. I decided I would talk to Vince, who was closer
to Bryan and Wendy than I, and let him know it might be a good idea that Wendy knew about this...
* * * *
01. The Pervert
02. The Night the Retards Came
03. The Paranoid Schizophrenic
04. The Art Institute
05. Frog's Restroom Misadventure
06. The Pixie Who Destroyed His VW Van