A Truckstop Perspective

"How much are your cheapest cigarettes?" asked the young woman as she fished around in her purse.

I recited the bargain brand price.

"How much is your gas?"

I looked out the window (pointedly) at the big sign and read her the price.

"Hmmm, I guess I'll take the full-flavor 100s, then." She continued rummaging in her purse obliviously.

As I turned away to get the cigarettes I heard the distinctive clatter of a large handful of coins on the counter. Smiling dutifully, I set the pack next to the pile of coins and proceeded to count it out.

"This won't leave much for gas," I said finally, with as much concern as I could muster. "It won't even buy a half-gallon."

"That's okay," she chirped brightly, and snatched the pack from the counter. "Cigs before gas, always!" She flashed a smile and flounced out the door.

What an interesting thing to say, I thought as I began scooping the coins and depositing them in the register. I wonder which addiction will win out when things start to get difficult -- tobacco, or gasoline?

It was with an odd mixture of excitement and chagrin that I discovered three silver coins in her pile, and quickly bought them from the till. Maybe the tough times aren't so far away, after all.

I closed the drawer in time to watch her climb into her full-size pickup and drive off...