Two Evils Meet at Midnight

I raced out without my wallet. Downstairs in the lift that visits the even numbers, the odd numbers were broken. I had to come back.

It was ten to twelve and the filling station attendants strike was starting at midnight. The needle on my scooter was about to flash red for empty so it was essential I got to the station before the strike kicked in.

I pulled onto the forecourt, alone, not a one about. The attendant was still at the night hatch. I pre-paid six euro to fill up the tank. In the end I was hard pressed to squeeze five sixty six into her. “What’s the strike about?” I asked him while paying. “Same old gripe” he answered, “Money, we’re looking for a raise”. “Fair enough” I said safe in the knowledge that my tank was full.

I waited across the road to observe what a strike looks like. At twelve on the dot the attendant left the hatch and withdrew to the backroom. I can’t imagine the staff quarters are very big, at least not big enough to remain comfortable for the two full days the strike is set to run.

A Vespa pulled in carrying a man whose helmet was designed for a smaller head. He parked in what I am sure is his habitual fashion and walked over to the hatch. He waited patiently, no shouting, calling or knocking on the window. He was seemingly unaware that his wait would surpass his expectations.

Then a Seat Leon arrived, red and rearing. Its driver was well groomed in the gelled short-haired style. He carried his keys in his hand as he made his way across the forecourt to obediently stand beside the Vespa rider.

They both stood glancing through the shop windows to see whether the attendant was perhaps finishing off his sandwich or retuning from the bathroom. Alas no, he did not appear. Following Union orders you see.

Having seen my fill I mounted my bike and drove across the road to inform them of their fate. “What time is it now?” the large-headed small-helmet wearer enquired. “Eight minutes past twelve replied Mr Leon”. I explained the strike had begun at twelve. “I’ve been here for a long time”, the helmet pleaded.

A two day wait is a long time when you’re cold and it’s midnight on a back road. A low salary is perhaps a curse that’s worse.