Texaco
It was freezing, but he needed gas, so he pulled into
the Texaco.
The first card was declined, but the next one worked. He
pulled out the nozzle and started gassing up.
He was bone-tired. At 57, he was too damn old for
construction work, but it’s all he knew. Retirement was out of the question. He’d
be working till the day he died.
“Dead end job till the day I die”, he thought
sarcastically to himself.
Leaning against the pump as the tank filled, covering
the “No smoking” sign with his shoulder, he lit up a cigarette. “YOLO,
motherfuckers.”
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