gas-n-go

so i work as a receptionist at this place that sells and manufactures hunting arrows...don't ask completely random i know. today lynette, my boss asked me to run to the gas-n-go down the street. she usually asks for a 20 oz. diet pepsi filled to the brim with ice. no problem. well today the orders came early and they came a little taller than usual. lynette hands me a large jamba juice mug, four quarters and barks, "mug rootbeer filled to the top with ice." like an obedient puppy dog, i quickly grab my oversized sunglasses, car keys and start out the door. "WAIT! don't leave yet!" it was copo the northwestern states sales rep. he is an odd man with a somewhat quiet disposition. slowly i turn to face him standing in the doorway of his office. without another word he bolts out to his truck. i look out to the parking lot to see copo's legs flailing around outside the car. what is he doing in there i wonder. momentarily he's back inside the lobby and dumps a dollar bill and some loose change in my open palm. chocolate doughnut and mountain dew. ok, sure. if that's not the weirdest order i've ever heard. off i go. everytime i drive to gas-n-go i can hear that song that people somehow try to turn into a thanksgiving song--you know the one--"over the river and through the woods, to grandmother's house we go..." i don't know why but it just pops in my head, maybe because i'm off on this little journey and i definitely have mission. so i pull into gas-n-go, which is the epitimy of a slumpy gas station. but they supposedly make really good cookies and stuff and their ice machine makes good ice, or so i've heard. once inside the building i head straight for the fountain drink machines...fill the two orders and proceed to the checkout counter. they know me by name at this place. funny thing is is that i've never been there of my own personal accord...yeah...i order a chocolate doughnut, reach into my denim skirt pocket for the change and push it toward the lady behind the counter. so getting the ten feet to my car is going to be tricky...three things to carry: rootbeer, mountain dew, doughnut. i start to panic. then to my delight i realize that the jamba mug is outfitted with the wide mouth, perfect for doughnut storage and transport. with that figured out i step away from the counter i slide to the door. to my luck it's on of those push to open doors...sweet no additional effort on my part. but to my horror a gust of wind rolls past me just as i step into the outside air. the doughnut starts to slip. almost instinctively, my left arm lurches over to catch the falling chocolate confection. luckily the doughnut remians unscathed, but the lotion on my hands causes the mountain dew to slip from my arm which is now craned in an unnatural angle. 32 oz of mountain dew splatter all over my feet and bare ankles. embarrassed and feeling much like a puppy with her tail between her legs i run in and ask the cashier, who has seen the whole fiasco through the wall of windows at the front of the store, if i can refill, which i quickly do and leave the gas-n-go...until next time