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I was on a short business trip to Texarkana when I realized I was low on gas. I quickly checked with Siri and determined there was a small country store near near a small town about six miles off the interstate. I steered my car down the two lane black top and through the pine trees flashing by my window. I wasn’t in a particular hurry and had some spare time to kill before my appointment. I pulled into the drive of the small country store, which was on the outskirts of the small town. As luck would have, the pay at the pump feature was not working. A small hand written sign posted on the pump said to “pay the attendant”. I stepped into the small store and was immediately engulfed in a blue haze of cigarette smoke from a group of folks playing fake slot machines off in one corner of the çankaya escort store. I stepped over to the counter and looked for the attendant to pay for my fuel. I was surprised to see a pair of nice looking, well-tanned legs and a cute ass hanging from some cut-off jeans pointing at me, as the young clerk was bent over and fishing through a cardboard box on the floor behind the counter. I cleared my throat. The young clerk looked over her shoulder and said, “Hang on.” Gladly. After a few seconds, she spun around and faced me. Wow! She was cute. “How can I help you?” she asked, a strand of her long blonde hair drooping down and across her forehead. She brushed the misplaced lock of hair back with her hand. “I need a tank of gas,” I said, holding out my debit rus escort card. She took my card and punched in the numbers, grumbling because the scanner didn’t work. “I hope this works,” she said as we waited for the transaction to go through. “I hope so,” I said, “I’m running on fumes.” The machine hummed and out came the paper receipt. The clerk handed me a pen and I signed the receipt. I signed the receipt, trying desperately to think of something witty to say, but I couldn’t. As I handed the receipt to her, she smiled and politely took it from my hand. “The pump has been giving us fits,” she said, as she stuck the receipt in the drawer of the cash register, “So if it doesn’t pump, let me know.” I lifted the handle to the gas pump and waited for it to come on. eryaman escort Nothing. I replaced the hose assembly and tried again, with no luck. I headed back into the store. When I didn’t see the clerk, I asked one of the patrons playing in the gaming room, where the clerk had gone. “She hides out in the back office,’ the older lady replied. I stepped down the narrow aisles and past the beer coolers to the only door at the back of the small store. I tapped on the door. I waited for answer, but there wasn’t one. I cracked the door open, “Hello,” I called out. Suddenly, the clerk appeared from another door in the back of the small room. Her shirt was disheveled and partly unbuttoned, exposing her white brassiere. Her cut-off shorts were unzipped and open at the top. “Oh fuck!” the clerk exclaimed upon seeing me standing in the office doorway. “The pump doesn’t work,” I said. The clerk seemed unusually flustered and she was a bright red. “Come in and close the door,” she hastily requested. I stepped into the small office. and closed the door behind me.