“It’s never a hard choice for me, to take the slower route from one part of Vermont to another. I look forward to get a driving glimpse of small towns I rarely visit, witnessing their vitality, and ever changing small business signage. I might even stop, and buy something. Today, I needed to pick up Half ‘n Half, and heavy cream, on a Sunday. Well, of course the gas station Quik Stop in Jericho only had “half” of that order. I sidled up to the cashier, as she was chit chatting with her co-worker, “half” wondering if she’d show up to take my money. Turns out, she was totally on it. As she wrapped up her tete-a-tete, I noticed the weird, brown, gooey substance in a clear plastic cup on the counter, she’d just recently pressed her plastic spoon down into. She breezed into place, behind the register, saying: “Gotta get my sugar fix, I guess” and moved it, an inch to the left. I wondered if I should ask. So I said, with my usual, semi-autistic bluntness, not being one to really finesse a conversation with a stranger: “What is that?”. She didn’t reply right away. Instead, she retraced her steps to the deli case, pointing at a herd of similar items. I appreciated her tutelage. “Butterscotch pudding”, she said. I suppose a demonstration is better than a mere explanation, in the long run. I looked down at the cups admiringly, or tried to, without seeming obvious about which way I fell, on the topic of butterscotch pudding. I wasn’t filled with the need to burden her, with my opinion, regarding anything she likes. It’s really not my business. And so I stumbled in my head, looking for an adequate response. “Wow, that’s cool” I said, or something equally stupid. I confess, it didn’t look appetizing to me. Despite the fact I’d skipped breakfast, leaving the house at around 8 am, to go pick up some lumber, in Fairfield. So, I was motivated by hunger, just not so motivated, frankly, to buy a pudding product thing in a cup. I was also kind of bummed, they didn’t have heavy cream in the dairy case. It meant another stop, another conversation, another transaction, which for people like me, who have trouble talking, can be brutal. But okay, let’s make the best of a bad situation. I liked the fact that she was missing some front teeth. I don’t know why, but maybe teeth, are the great equalizer. It made me feel like ... we could be friends. I suddenly wished I had more time to get to know her, as if we’d met at a party. She was a number. And, frankly, so am I. However, getting cash, $3.99 to be exact, out of my change purse, using coins and bills, quickly took over. I dumped a bunch of change on the formica, and suddenly, forgot all my math skills. When finally we’d sorted it out, she said: “You don’t want the penny, do you?”. Well, not really. But sort of. It was my penny. But in the end I was willing to donate it to “Jolley”, which was the name of the gas station. Do we rank convenience stores now, by how slick or unslick they are? “Jolley” is way down there, I think. Looks a lot like “Maplefields”, but with a worse name exponentially by any algorithm you might wish to employ, right? I liked “General Store”, just fine. So, moving along in my truck, once I was gassed up & back in it, on into the next town, I looked for the general store, turns out, in Cambridge. Oh, good lord, thank you for that, just a store in the center of town that looks like a store, well, how a store used to look. I pulled in, right in front, feeling a tad self conscious for parking right in front of the front door. But, it being Sunday, at around 9:30 am, the church crowd was in pews, and it made things easier. I waltzed in, relieved to see real food, and hear the floor creak a little. I knew I’d find heavy cream, here. Best thing, totally, was that as I was walking out, a guy was walking in, and held the door for me. He smiled, didn’t look at me directly, didn’t have any interest in checking me out, or engaging beyond a swinging door. Now, that’s politeness. That made me want to follow him home, and marry him in some fantasy. It’s all fleeting, it’s all ridiculous. I’m ridiculous, Vermont has become a ridiculous place, and yet, still, there are these close encounters, that completely alter the course of humanity. I felt it, I let it go ... I went on to pick up lumber at my friend’s house, and sit a spell, & drink coffee, and watch her make homemade scones, and gaze upon her frozen lake. There are still trips we all need to take, before such trips are legislated and regulated, out of existence.”
