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gas station that is. there was this 57 chevy on the other side, all decked out, new paint, slick wheels, shiny rims. older gentleman tending his ride.

so i whip in to the other side. there we were each facing south, looking out over the town, him in his turquoise on white, me with the silver with charcoal striped jbl. each was shining in the afternoon sun, eager to do something.

i figured the guy would take two steps over to my side of the pump when i pulled in, but no, he wouldn't budge. i had to leave mine running, he was going to hear it whether he liked it or not, and i wasn't going to take two steps over to his side of the pump, no way.

so there were stood, not saying a word.

the lady in the convenience store runs out all giggly and asks what year? not a year mam, but a car, a kit car. oh, she says, a kit car, and mumbles something else, almost spinning completely around.

i glance over at the 57, he's still there but not making any conversation. oh well, i've run into these kind before. just leave em alone and they don't pose any problems, it's daylight at least.

i'm finished fueling and latch everything up. glance over once more to see if '57 wants to parlay, but no chance. just as well.

i get in and buckle up, wait, almost forgot to pull the chock. the guy in the convenience store walks out and offers assistance, i say no, i can get it and reach out in front of the rear wheel and pull the chock.

off i go, looking back at '57 once more, he's not even looking up.