Gas Station, chapter 1
A car pulled up to a Texaco gas station in Staton Island, New York. The radio was blairing Maroon 5's "This Love" as the man pulled in. He turned off the car and waitied for some one to come to fill up his car. A girl came out and asked him how much he wanted his tank filled.
"Full," the guy said. The girl nodded and looked in his window as he handed her his card. She saw a familiar face, but since she couldn't quite remember, she ignored it. She took the card and filled up the tank, but an error came up.
"What the..." she said. She groaned. "Hold on a minute sir while I go inside and see what happened."
When she got inside, the clerk at the desk asked, "What happened?" The girl shook her head. She turned the card in all directions to see if there was something wrong it.
"I don't know," she said, still looking at the card. "Omigod, Tracey, look at this!" Tracey was the clerk and she came out from behind the counter and looked at the card. The signiture read, "Frank Wright".
"Do you know who this is?" the girl asked.
"Um... Frank Wright?" Tracey responded cluelessly.
"This is, no... this is too hard to beleive."
"Who's Frank Wright?", but before the girl could answer the obvious question, the man came in and said, "Um, is there a problem? You've been in here a while." The girl was petrified and she couldn't answer, she just shook her head.
"Uh, okay, I'll be outside," the man said.
The girl suddenly came out of her trance.
"Tracey!! That was Tre Cool, as in Tre from Green Day!" the girl squealed. Tracey went wide-eyed and studdered, "Woah, you were talking to the man who plays drums for Green Day?! As in Billie Joe Armstrong and Mike Dirnt?!" The girl nodded and smiled.
"Well, this is the best customer we ever had!" Tracey said. "Go back out there and confirm it and give the guy his friggin' gas! He's probably thinks we're stealing his money!" The girl went back to normal.
"You still don't get it, do you?", the girl said, "That man is famous! We can get his autograph on our poster!" The girl ran behind the counted and tore off the wall a picture of Green Day, you know, that Mexican one?
"Well confirm it first," Tracey said, "Then get the autograph if he's real and then get the gas!" Tracey pushed the girl out the door with the card.
"Oh, is everything alright?" the man asked. The girl kept cool and nodded.
"Uh, yes... Mr. Wright? Is that your name?" she asked. The man smiled. If you're trying to hint me into saying 'I'm Tre Cool', you don't have to," the man said, "I'm Tre Cool and let me guess what you're doing with that poster, you want my autograph, right?" The girl nodded and smiled.
"Hand it here, then," he said. He signed it handed it back and said,
"Now can I have my gas?"
"Oh!" the girl exclaimed. The man, Tre, chuckled. She filled up his tank and he drove away with a thank you.
"Full," the guy said. The girl nodded and looked in his window as he handed her his card. She saw a familiar face, but since she couldn't quite remember, she ignored it. She took the card and filled up the tank, but an error came up.
"What the..." she said. She groaned. "Hold on a minute sir while I go inside and see what happened."
When she got inside, the clerk at the desk asked, "What happened?" The girl shook her head. She turned the card in all directions to see if there was something wrong it.
"I don't know," she said, still looking at the card. "Omigod, Tracey, look at this!" Tracey was the clerk and she came out from behind the counter and looked at the card. The signiture read, "Frank Wright".
"Do you know who this is?" the girl asked.
"Um... Frank Wright?" Tracey responded cluelessly.
"This is, no... this is too hard to beleive."
"Who's Frank Wright?", but before the girl could answer the obvious question, the man came in and said, "Um, is there a problem? You've been in here a while." The girl was petrified and she couldn't answer, she just shook her head.
"Uh, okay, I'll be outside," the man said.
The girl suddenly came out of her trance.
"Tracey!! That was Tre Cool, as in Tre from Green Day!" the girl squealed. Tracey went wide-eyed and studdered, "Woah, you were talking to the man who plays drums for Green Day?! As in Billie Joe Armstrong and Mike Dirnt?!" The girl nodded and smiled.
"Well, this is the best customer we ever had!" Tracey said. "Go back out there and confirm it and give the guy his friggin' gas! He's probably thinks we're stealing his money!" The girl went back to normal.
"You still don't get it, do you?", the girl said, "That man is famous! We can get his autograph on our poster!" The girl ran behind the counted and tore off the wall a picture of Green Day, you know, that Mexican one?
"Well confirm it first," Tracey said, "Then get the autograph if he's real and then get the gas!" Tracey pushed the girl out the door with the card.
"Oh, is everything alright?" the man asked. The girl kept cool and nodded.
"Uh, yes... Mr. Wright? Is that your name?" she asked. The man smiled. If you're trying to hint me into saying 'I'm Tre Cool', you don't have to," the man said, "I'm Tre Cool and let me guess what you're doing with that poster, you want my autograph, right?" The girl nodded and smiled.
"Hand it here, then," he said. He signed it handed it back and said,
"Now can I have my gas?"
"Oh!" the girl exclaimed. The man, Tre, chuckled. She filled up his tank and he drove away with a thank you.
