Justice League


My car was thirsty.

My $0.07 off/gallon coupon was still valid.

I pulled into my regular gas station. Broad daylight. A beautiful November day. Last Friday to be exact. I found an open pump. Exited my car and hit the blue “pay inside” button. Selected “Regular Unleaded” and “began fueling.”

The windows needed some washing. I washed them. And when I was just about done with the front windshield, a rather loud, in color and noise, sports car rolled up to the pump next to mine. The sports car was anything but new. I didn’t think much of it or the person driving it. I finished the windshield, returned the gas station’s squeegee to it’s rightful spot. My tank was done drinking. I went to top off (shhh, don’t tell).

And that’s when I noticed the driver of the sports car.

He was talking, I’m assuming on the phone, and staring at me. Woman’s intuition kicked in and I was kind of weirded out by him. His sweater was preppy and loud. He wasn’t scary. But I felt it. The “gut” feeling all women get when something isn’t right. I wrote it off. Paranoia. Too many USA Network marathons.

I screwed my gas cap back on. Grabbed my wallet, keys, and cell phone and locked the car.

The gas station was busy, many workers, must have been an overlap in shifts. There was an elderly man in front of me. Paid for his gas and some lotto tickets. I made a mental note to remember to buy those someday. And then it was my turn to pay. I handed the cashier my credit card and $0.07 off/gallon coupon.

And then. It happened.

Cashier checking me out: “We’ve got a runner.”

Cashier’s manager: “Did you get the plates?”

Cashier checking me out:”Yep, right here.”

Cashier’s manager:”All right, I’ll make the phone call. Get a good look at him?”

Cashier checking me out:”No, I couldn’t see him. He was at the end pump.”

And then. That’s when I realized who they were talking about.

“I saw him! Ah, late teens, early twenties. He was wearing a purple sweater and jeans,” I described. Suddenly I felt like making a citizens arrest.

Cashier checking me out:”Hey, she saw him. Purple hoodie.”

People need to learn the difference between a sweater and a hoodie.

Cashier’s manager on the phone with the police:”Yeah, late teens, early twenties. Male. Purple shirt. Turned left onto the highway. Sports car.”

I provided the cashier checking me out with the gas thief’s skin color. Don’t know if she needed it. Just thought the more accurate the better. At least that’s what they want on Law & Order.

Cashier checking me out:”Your total comes to $43.95. Sign here.”

I left the gas station, as I’ve done hundreds of times before, and felt my cape blowing in the breeze behind me, my mask a sign to the world that I represented justice. That after a simple gas station visit, on a simply wonderful November day, I had become a member of The Justice League.

I deserve a cupcake.

__________________________________________________________

I ask. You answer.

  1. Ever witnessed a crime?
  2. Who’s your favorite Superhero and why?
  3. Have you ever suffered from bystander effect? Psych 101: when you witness a crime or some form of injustice — resulting in someone being hurt or wronged — and you do nothing, say nothing.

 

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