She pulled up to pump 5. The seat leather stuck to the back of her thighs. The cracked leather scratched her legs. She opened the door and slipped down to the ground. Moving around to the far side, she looked at the interface. It took her a moment, but she selected cash. She selected fifty, though she didn’t have fifty. She lifted the handle and pulled her gas cap off. The nozzle sank into the hole. She pumped until twenty clattered past. Then thirty. At forty, she stopped.
A cold wind blew, and her legs prickled. From her ankles to her ass. She pulled her shirt around her. Her bra kept the attention away, but her arms kept the eyes at bay.
The glowing door enticed her and lured her in. She felt like a fish. Inside, she bought a Coke. It was the first one she’d had in ages. There was nothing more she could afford. She walked over to the state lotto machine.
Ching. Ding. Stupid Ring. She slowly went through the tickets. Some she lost. Some she made back. Two she got back more than the machine had asked. Ten minutes. No one else wanted the machine. She kept chinging, dinging, and ringing. She wished they were scratch tickets instead of bubbles.
Finally! She won fifty. She walked over to the counter and asked them to apply it to pump 5. They nodded without thinking.
She looked out the door at her rambler. It was sad. So was she. She walked through the doors out to her car.
