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Saturday, June 26, 2004


I Guess I'm Sampo
Here's a story that I might or might not end up finishing. (note: I won't post recipes on story posts.)



I walked into the diner and scanned the area for an empty seat. Found a booth in the corner of the building and helped myself to it. A short woman walked up to me, handed me a menu, and asked me what I wanted to drink.

"Coffee, please."

She was wearing black polkadot dress and had a large mole slightly below and in front of her ear. As she walked off to prepare my coffee, I noticed how crowded the diner seemed. There was going to be lots of people on the road today, and there wasn't another place to eat for miles.

When I finished my omlet and biscuits, I left the money on the counter and walked out. I got in my car and noticed that I was rather low on gas. Out across the plain, I could see a dot that might have been a gas station, and headed towards it.

I coasted into the station, and, when I saw how desolate it was, looked through the dirty windows to scan for personell.

I heard a voice behind me:

"Hey there, Sampo!"

I turned around to see a man with a nametag that read 'Dishawn'. Strange name for a Latino.

"You want to get some gas?"

"Well, that's what I came here for."

While he was pumping the gas, he asked me my name.

"Well, I guess my name's Sampo." I could live with that.

I started to walk into the store.

I woke up looking at the metal ceiling of the overhang outside the gas station. I rubbed my head, and looked for my car. It was long gone, of course, along with 'Dishawn'. I lay there on the ground for a few minutes and thought about what I was going to do. I remembered that I couldn't delay, and went inside the store to stock up as much as I could. I got a black duffel bag, five bags of potato chips, some fruit drinks and several bottles of water.

I hesitated as I was walking out the door, and, fool though I be, left about thirty dollars on the counter.

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