More Drama than a Soap Opera

I smiled to myself as I made the drive through Frog Pond Holler, on my way to the Cubicle Asylum this fine morning. Fall Branch rushed under the bridge, a result of all the rain they had in Big City over night. Miss Plemmons, a retired school teacher, paused to admire the wild, foamy water while taking her corgi on his daily walk, trotting along on nubby little legs, his tongue dangling from the corner of his mouth. He looked like he wanted to dive right in.

The mountain peaks surrounding our tiny town were draped in wispy white mist, like giant cotton balls, stretched thin and gently tossed in the air, landing gracefully in place. The effects are slightly different every day, the Universe sending the sunlight to wipe the surface clean before painting a brand new picture the next morning.

Ahhh... Friday.

It's been an eventful week here in the holler. Remember the new equipment over at the Pump n' Go? The other day, the Amazon's former boss, the Salvation Army preacher, was fillin' his tank and ran inside to pick up some snacks, leaving the pump on. When he came back out, he hopped in the van and left.

With the pump still running.

Lawd have mercy. The resulting spray of gasoline made the Pump n' Go look like that Bellagio fountain out there in Las Vegas. I know because I caught a glimpse of the Bellagio as we whizzed past it in the airport taxi-van-thingie on the way to my crappy hotel, nestled between an adult book store and the open desert when I went to Vegas a couple of years ago.

After all the drama subsided, the owner of the Pump n' Go shook his head and laughed as he told the Amazon, "I kain't have nuthin!" The Amazon, anxious to share the story, called her friend, The Gritlet, who was also a professional Christmas season ding-a-ling for the S.A., just knowing she'd find the whole story hilarious.

But the Amazon was mistaken. She hadn't considered the fact that The Gritlet, who now works in a clerical capacity for the S.A., would be the one who'd have to deal with the insurance and other assorted red tape associated with getting the pump repaired.

General Hospital ain't got nothin' on Frog Pond Holler.

Thank heavens this week is almost in the can. I've got a hot date planned with a box of hair color and an adventure outing among the hillfolk at the grocery store.

Which is probably all the excitement I can handle in one weekend.

Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!


Wildhair said...

I'm not sure how it is down yonder, but up here in the land of yankees all of our gas stations have big ol' signs that say "Do not leave pump unattended." Having once been an employee at one of those all-in-one gasseruppers, I've witnessed some crazy stuff. We had a car wash attached and people blamed us for over spills. We'd demonstrate how a gallon of water spread out on pavement to appear like gallonS when they swore up and down that they weren't going to pay for 5 of the 15 gallons pumped. Oof! READ THE SIGN! "Here's your sign" -- Bill Engval and I thank you.

tiff said...

So, you've abandoned the 'let's go natural' hair colorthing?

Good girl.

Why do people have to be in such an all-fired rush to get places that they forget they're pumping as? jeepers!

kenju said...

The hillfolk at the grocery store? I'm sure that's worth a few thousand words!!

The Gritlet said...

Thankfully it doesn't seem like it'll be a whole lot of hassle. Capt. sure does need a vacation, though. ;)