Please excuse me for this post. I'd like to start out saying that I am in no way racist and the only reason race is even brought up is because the first thing I thought before my event occurred was that the woman about to ring up my gas in the gas station looked JUST like this.
This is what went down. I was down to 13 miles of gas left. I was forced to pull into a gas station, one I frequent regularly. Usually I just use my card but today I had $20 of cash on me that I thought would be best used to purchase gas, rather than sit in my purse tempting me to buy things I shouldn't. So I, a petite 37 weeks and 4 days pregnant woman, wandered unsuspectingly into the gas station to purchase my gas. Upon entering I found who I can only assume to be Aunt Madea behind the counter, and one of her friends who either worked there with her or enjoyed spending her spare time in gas stations.
Before I could politely state my request, this lady busts out with a loud "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH NO." "........?" my face said. "GIRL YOU ABOUT TO DROPPPPPPPPPPPP WE NEED TO GET YOU OUTA HERE WHAT DO YOU NEED??" "............?!" my face said. "$20 on pump one" my smiling mouth said. So I hand her my money and laugh a little, ready to accept the regular bout of hahaha teasing am I not funny how fat are you etc. that I put up with. She takes the cash and looks back at me. I look at her. She looks at me. I look at her. "YOU NEED ANYTHING ELSE? A RECEIPT?" "..............??!!" my face said. "Uh, no, no I'm good" my mouth said. Her face said this:
"MMMKAY WELL YOU NEED TO GET OUT RIGHT NOW BECAUSE ALL I GOTS HERE'S A BANDAID AND I'M NOT TOUCHING THAT *%#$." I assume she meant afterbirth. "...........???!!!???!!!" my face said. "Ok, bye" my mouth said. And I turned around and walked out, both women staring at me like I had just walked in with the black plague, french kissed them both, and walked out again pumping my fists into the air victoriously. I got to my car, pumped my gas, all the while trying to keep a hold over myself. I felt like laughing, crying, and walking back in there to try and purposely give birth on her floor. Instead I got into the car and drove home, all the while trying to figure out why it bugged me more than the average comment.
Rob was pretty mad and told me to write a letter. Perhaps what most "grinds my gears" (family guy anyone?) about this scenario is that in the past you always get that awkward friendly grin that accompanies biting remarks. You are fat, stop eating donuts, hahaha I'm so funny aren't we like best friends now. Either this woman's sense of humor is so wack that she doesn't know how to impart the idea that she is in fact joking either on her victims or herself, or she was dead serious that I may drop a kid onto the floor at any moment. This was serious. This was sad. Maybe this was meant to be funny, maybe this was meant to be hurtful. Anyways, I hate to admit it but it bothered me all the way home and it bothered me as I told my husband the story. A day later after what I like to call "pregnant brain" has had a chance to simmer down and forget 90% of my goings on as usual, I can look back at this and laugh pretty hysterically over the situation.
2 comments:
I wish you could have actually gone into labor right there. Maybe not actually given birth--I wouldn't wish that on you or any baby--but maybe your water could have broken or something.
You will make a post on your blog when the deed goes down, won't you?
(I'll have you know I spent a solid five minutes trying to think of a way to ask you "Have you had the baby?" without actually asking you that, since I know how much I HATED hearing that.)
Hope you're doing great!
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