Driftwood Love

11. Saint Andreas

The next day at the gas station started off terribly. Customers leisurely filled their tanks while I waited patiently for them to finally approach the cash register. Instead, they seemed to be running marathons around their cars, meticulously cleaning them with the squeegees provided.

I stood at attention as they inspected every corner of their vehicles, polished the windows, and lost track of time.

An internal countdown began as I hoped they would move to the register before I set a world record for holding a bathroom break.

Just when I decided to give in to my urgent need and disappear for a mere two minutes, customers suddenly rushed in, reacting almost in panic: "HELLO???" pierced through the gas station air as if they had suddenly found themselves in a deserted wasteland.

My brief bathroom break had transformed the gas station into a dramatic scene of cries for help, as if I were the key to survival in this wild outpost. The absurd drama continued, and I returned to find myself the unlikely heroine in this bizarre gas station play.

One of my boss Andreas's "favorite cousins," Lena, who also happened to be a single mother, had worked the late shift. She always had the better "arguments" for not taking the early shift on weekends or generally any shifts during the weekend.

She always mentioned her son as an excuse. I almost always worked weekends, and her child's father would come by with his son to buy cocoa and breakfast. Yes, on weekends.

Several regular customers independently told me that my colleague worked "under the table" at a local pub on weekends and staggered home drunk at dawn. They claimed to have seen it with their own eyes. I couldn't figure out if it was true, but she definitely was a piece of work.

She always talked about all she had done, but in the end, nothing was accomplished. Nothing was restocked, customers were queuing up, and I was running back and forth between the shelves and the register.

We had a computer for orders, and sometimes you could even use it to go online. When I checked the history, I found loads of cheesy series and reality shows, always after her shifts. That solved the mystery of why nothing got done.

Unfortunately, during my shifts, we often had many customers in the morning, and when the boss showed up, some items were still not restocked. Naturally, I was the one who got the blame.

Momo always said I was too submissive and took too much. Despite my tough childhood, I still often believed in the goodness of people, that, for example, women were sisters who should stick together. Sadly, I was repeatedly punished, exploited, and even despised by some of my female peers. And, I always realized it too late.

Of course, my special customer with his sandwich also showed up and complained bitterly that nothing was ready. He looked as if he would starve. Not!

The worst part of working at the gas station was that sometimes, the late shifts had temp workers—or often had—who just stood around doing nothing, even if a lot was sold and the shelves looked like they were in a looted store. Neither the trash was emptied nor anything else done.