Lady and the Six Slingers

I don’t usually do stupid things.  I just needed a break.  Getting a rental car and to drive from Denver to Las Vegas solo may not be categorized as intelligent.  Especially now when the battery percentage on my phone is in the single digits and the gas gauge percentage is too.  Grabbing the wrong charging cord was also a misstep and I have no idea where a gas station could possibly be hiding.  The golden sun is low in the Arizona sky, amplifying the great expanse of flat nothing in all directions.  I can’t recall the last time I saw another car. I spot the gas station in the distance, hoping it’s not a mirage.

Pulling into the lot, I ease up to a gas pump.  Running my card, I then place the nozzle into my thirsty car.  I reach into the window for my bag, finding my baseball hat.  I pull it low on my head allowing my blonde hair to fall loose over my shoulders.  I spot the station with a sign marking it open.  There’s a cashier in a vest stitched with the station’s logo staring down at his phone with a blank expression on his face.  Gazing again around the lot, I spot two other cars.  This guy isn’t alone.  As a woman traveling by herself, it puts me on edge.  

Opening the station door, I hear bells jingling above me.  The cashier looks up, giving me a nod and then shifts his gaze back to his phone.  Glad he’s not looking for small talk.

I turn right walking down the aisle closest to the window.  Its shelves filled with snacks of every variety with a few sun-bleached Doritos bags.  I pass the aisles hoping to spot electronics.  When I pass the aisle with canned goods, two young men at the end of the aisle catch my attention.

“Nah man, not here.  It’s all electronic and stuff.  We need to go further along.”  Says a sandy haired man looking to be in his early twenties.  His accent sounds Southern, maybe from Georgia as it has that nice slow draw.

“I know we’re low, but I swear we can make it to Tucson.”  Says the other man, lean with about five inches on his friend.  He pulls more on his vowels and I’m thinking he’s from Alabama.   At least I’ve learned a cool party trick from the city to city traveling I’ve done. 

“There’s nothing in car, we’re desperate.”  Sandy hair guy says, taking his baseball cap off, dragging his fingers through his hair and replacing it on his head.  I notice a pained look on his face.

The younger man spots me at the end of the aisle.  I casually look away at a poster for Skoal tobacco as if that was exactly what I came in for.   I discover it’s on sale.  Apparently, I just need to ask for it at the front.  I don’t want the chew, but more importantly, I don’t want them to get a better look at my face.  

Looking down the next aisle I discover gold.  I’m in the land of charging cables.  I crouch down quickly grabbing what I need.  As I stand, I lock gazes with the sandy haired man who eyes me suspiciously.  My pulse quickens. 

“Well, what is?  Do we really have any choice?”  Asks tattoo guy running his hand through his long curly hair, his many tattoos peek out from beneath his short sleeve shirt.

“If you won’t then I will.”  Sandy haired guy says firmly.  “I’ll just point it at him.  He’ll know what I need.”

My eyes dart over to the cashier, he must have something under that desk for safety reasons.  You don’t work alone in the Arizona desert, with only cigarettes and Vape Pens as your first line of defense.  I walk towards the counter and placing the charger down.

Hearing footsteps behind me, my heart begins hammering in my chest.  I swiftly turn around.

“Don’t!”  I yell and pull the hat off my head in the hopes this is the distraction needed.  Sandy hair’s face falls.  He has a gun in his right hand pointed directly at me.  All four of us are frozen.

That’s when I see a small green light at the bottom of the barrel and hear a vibration noise.

“I wasn’t gunna use it on you.”  Sandy haired guy says, the right side of his face coming up in a smile.  “You can though.”

“What?!”  I snap not sure what is even happening here.

“It’s my Thera Gun.  We’ve been on the road for hours and my back is tight as shit.”  Sandy haired guy says lifts the hand holding the gun with a small round ball attached and pushes it into his shoulder.  “I’m just running lower on power, and I need a special cord to charge it with.”

“Ah man, that is the worst.”  Says Cashier.  “Let me look in aisle six.  The boss is obsessed with being stocked out in the middle of nowhere.”  He steps off his stool crosses behind the counter and down to the two steps to our level.  

Still nothing.  What the hell is going on? 

“Is that the Thera 250?” Cashier guy calls as he walks down an aisle.

“Yeah, I was thinking of upgrading.”  Blonde guy says.

I notice the tall dark tattooed guy walk towards me, taking a hard look at my face.  

This is it.

“Miss what did you think we were looking for?”

I start to chuckle, “Oh.”  I say batting a hand.  “I honestly had no idea….”

“Miss, did you think we were just some southern folks about to rob the place?”  He asks incredulously.  

“Hell no!”  I ask and continue to ramble.  “Two guys just chatting in the aisle debating a decision.”

“I thought that was you!”  Cashier guys says handing him some wrapped cord and two bottles of water.  

My stomach plummets, only he’s not addressing me.

“Aren’t you guys in Six Sling?”

“Yes, trying to get to Vegas.  Our manager won’t get us another flight because the tour budget.”  Tattoo says with annoyance. “We’ve done ten back-to-back shows and we were spent.”  Tattoo says.

I unsuccessfully stifle a laugh and all eyes are on me.

“Sounds awful.”  I say blankly.

Blonde continues massaging his shoulder.

“Wait, I have tickets to that show!  We’re flying private tonight.”  Cashier says excitedly.  “Ok, let me call my dad.”  Then his face falls.  

I still have no idea who or what Six Sling is.

“Fantastic.”  Blonde guy says. 

As Cashier goes back behind the counter, he realizes I’m still here.  

“Right, right.”  He rings me up, I pay and give a salute to the Six Sling people as I leave.

Out at my car, I breathe in a sigh of relief.  There is something nice about driving around in the middle of nowhere USA.  

As my phone rings and I see it’s my manager, Davis.

“Steph, my Princess, where in the hell are you?”  He asks sounding like a damn worried parent.

“At a gas station.” 

“Anybody recognize you?”  He asks.

“Ha!  No, ironically.  But there were two dudes in there from something called Six Sling.”

“Never heard of them.”

“Have I lost touch with the real world that much?”

“You’re not in the real world.  There people would’ve easily recognized Lady Gaga.”  He says with a laugh.

“True That.”  I say taking off my baseball cap and running a hand through my hair.  Starting the car, I pull out of the gas station and head to the next leg of my tour.