“Excuse me, ma’am, you need some help?”
“Yes please. I need the bathroom key really bad.”
I see she’s doing a mild potty dance.
Not the kind where you’re jumping from one leg to the next. This is just one of those uncomfortable moves of one foot, then the other, then back to the other, and back again.
I look at her again, a little closer this time. She looks pregnant, but I can’t be sure. Guessing in this day and age could spell the end of my convenience store career.
“I could really use your bathroom about now,” she says, sounding slightly desperate.
“Yes, I see that and I’m sure that it would provide you with a lot of relief. But I need you to buy something from this establishment. Can’t have every Tom, Dick, and Harry coming off the street to use the bathroom. I wouldn’t have a job at that rate.”
“I see your dilemma,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “But first of all, my name isn’t Tom, Dick, or even Harry. It’s Erica.”
“Nice to meet you, Erica,” I say, trying to be polite.
“Nice to meet you too convenience store man,” she smiles, but I’m not sure how genuine it is at this point. “I mean, ‘Carl’ she says after spying my official name tag.” Things are getting tense.
“I’m really not sure how much longer I can last. I need to use your restroom.”
“No problem. Just go buy something off the shelf.”
“I’d love to but I left my purse in the car.”
“Maybe if you just ran outside and grabbed it?”
“Look, Buster…”
“Carl. The name is Carl.”
“Look, Carl. I’m eight months pregnant and I’m in no mood to put up with your lip.”
“Oh, so you are pregnant then?”
“Yes, yes I am. What did you think? I’m just grossly obese in one part of my body? That it’s a huge tumor that I’m showing off with maternity wear?”
“I’m just feeling validated. It’s a great feeling, you know?”
“I’m not feeling validated myself at the moment.”
“Maybe just tell the kid to knock it off?” I say.
“You know how kids are these days,” she says. “They just do what they want.”
Her knees are starting to connect. I learned from my convenience store counter training that this is a sign of oncoming severe bladder distress.
This is not going to end well.
I lower myself down, bending my knees slightly. The restroom key is attached to a 30-pound cement block. I grab, lift with my legs, grunt for effect, then let the block fall heavily onto the counter.
“There ya go.”
She pulls at the block.
“Please don’t scratch the counter,” I plead.
“Of course.”
I am amazed at her strength as she lifts the block with both hands.
“You are quite strong,” I say.
“This isn’t my first rodeo,” she replies, as she waddles towards the door.
“Would you get the door for me please?” She says as her arms being to tremble slightly.
She has yet to buy something and I’m starting to second-guess my decision to let her have the restroom key. Meanwhile, she uses her left foot to push the door open.
“Careful!” I shout.
She walked out then returned a moment later without the block.
“There’s no key attached to the block,” she said calmly.
“Yes, I know,” I replied. Of course I knew but I also had forgotten. It was next to the loose change tray. A small key attached to a broken chain attached to nothing else. I held it up.
“You’re a jerk,” she said.
“Yes, I have come to learn that in all of my dealings with you today.”
“You obviously can’t handle the power of your position,” she said, taking the key from my hand.
“You know what? I think you’re right.”
She walked out the door and headed for the restroom as I stood there in silence for what seemed like an eternity.
“Here ya go. Thanks,” she said, walking into the store, handing me the key.
“You’re welcome, “ I said. “I’m assuming you washed your hands?”
She gave me a death stare. I moved on.
“May I ask what you did with the concrete block?”
“I left it outside.”
“Would it be too much to ask you to return it?
“Yes, it would be too much,” she said, turning to walk back out the door before stopping. ”Oh, and I also thought long and hard about it.”
“About what?”
“About buying something. I decided not to.”
“Can’t say I blame you.”
“You really suck at this job.”
“Can’t say that I disagree with you.”
“You should quit.”
“I already have.”