Short entry. in Every day scata

Every day I go into town, or through it, whatever, I stop at the BP station on the way. I get free coffee when Donna isn’t around. Sadly she’s back from sabbatical so pay I must.

Anyhoo, when I went Sunday morning the manager was standing outside smoking and asked if I knew anything about disabilities and stuff. I said “Yeah, I know a little about a bunch of them. What’s up?”

“see that guy in the car at the pumps? he’s been freaking out in the car for a good 20 minutes and I don’t know what to do!”

“want me to go check on him?”

“Would you? Please?”

So I half ass ran to the car because the sleet was pelting me in the side of the face, and watched him as I went over. I couldn’t tell if he was having a fit of anger, some kind of seizure, or just listening to some bangin’ music.

So I knocked on the window, scaring the guy. and yelled “Are you okay?” I think he was embarrassed that I was there.

He said he was fine. Had a fight with his wife that morning and it got him worked up, and then realized he only had 10 bucks for gas. (no, I didn’t give him gas money. I never know what’s the truth anymore). He got out of the car and ran to the store with me to get out of the weather. I’m standing back watching him. He was ticking. Uncontrollable ticking. Not a meth head. Or rather not a regular user.

I was thinking about it yesterday while I was working and I bet 100 bucks the poor guy has Tourette’s Syndrome. The “fit” in the car probably was triggered by the fight. You can’t drive if you’re ticking so bad it looks like you’re having a seizure.

The manager wasn’t there today, so I didn’t get to tell her my theory.

Regardless, I hope his day got better. Poor kid.