The Backseat Man
When the gas station attendant called me over the speaker, I had already started the car.
It was a little past eleven at night.
It was a small gas station beside the highway.
The convenience store lights were on, but there were no customers.
Only the fluorescent lights above the pumps flickered white.
I had gotten off work late.
I was the last person to leave the office, and my car was the only one left in the parking lot.
It would take about forty minutes to get home.
The gas tank was almost empty.
So I had no choice but to pull into that gas station.
I inserted my card, filled the tank, and did not print a receipt.
I just wanted to get home quickly.
It happened when I closed the gas cap and sat down in the driver’s seat.
A man’s voice came from the speaker.
“Ma’am, could you please come inside the store for a moment?”
I rolled down the window a little.
“Why?”
The attendant was standing at the register behind the glass window.
He was wearing a black cap.
I could not see his face clearly.
The speaker crackled again.
“Your card authorization didn’t go through properly.”
I looked at the phone I had placed beside the dashboard.
A payment notification had arrived.
Approved.
I was annoyed.
“I got the text. The p