[ WP ] The Service Station

'Nothin' lonelier than a service station at 4am' said the man, the sound of crunched toast marking his punctuation. 
 
 I grunted in agreement, looking down at the eternal disappointment masquerading itself as a ‘ medium tea ’ before me. Somewhere, a fluorescent strip-light flickered and popped and plinked, casting us in lazy, maddening strobe as we sat in quiet repose. 
 
'Hard to think that there's over 7 billion souls out there right now huh?!' said the man - heading straight from infinitesimally small talk all the way to `` Grand Philosophy and the Incredible Miracle of Being'' 
 
'Yup' 
 
 I sighed and adjusted my Superman outfit, padding at my bloodied face with a coarse-grained hand-towel from the toilets. 
 
 I stared out at the near-empty car park, the light-post lamps casting an eerie, movie-set quality to the two cars parked out there. A small breeze tugged and pulled at the litter outside and I watched two crisp packets chase each other in a lazy whirl; skittering and scratching across the cold, wet tarmac. 
 
'Not much of a talker... huh?!' said the man, apparently giving up on deep philosophy in the face of my sulking petulance. 
 
 I stirred again from my thoughts and looked over at the man sat beside me, noting the rugby player build hunched over a plate of toast-crusts. Dispassionately, my eyes absorbed the black leather mini-skirt and leopard print halter, the tights and heels, the earrings and rouged cheeks. I sighed again and looked to the heavens. Here I was, in the middle of some soulless feeder town sharing this'special moment' with a strapping 6 footer that looked like a cross between Charlize Theron and a mid-80s Ladies Olympic shot-putter. 
 
'Yeah, no, sorry... I just got a lot on my mind.' I said hollowly, lifting my cup of disappointment up to my lips, letting the steam warm my face as I sip. 
 
 `` I can see that - what the hell happened to you tonight... problems in Metropolis?! Had a'bit of a tiff' with Lois?!' said the aspiring comedian, making lazy air quotes with his hairy hands and winking lasciviously at me. 
 
'It's fuckin' Janine and Simon again - they were arguing all night and the bastard punched me for trying to calm him down! I was trying to calm him down!' 
 
'Classic Simon' said the size 11 heels, waving a hand at me to continue. 
 
'So there we were' I continued, full of fire and righteous indignation'outside Simpletons and he just starts wailing on me! All I did was pull him away from her cos he looked like he was going to snap when she slapped him! Known him ten years - even did for his mum when she was sick and he was out of the country - but that did n't fuckin' stop him did it?!.' 
 
 I lapsed into aggrieved silence, stabbing at my thin grey tea with a plastic spoon - trying to will some semblance of flavour from the tea-bag by means of aggressive force. 
 
 “ The worst part was -Janine then starts swinging her hand-bag at me and going bat-shit insane for hitting her boyfriend....she had literally just clocked him like Tyson with her slap- it was cupped hand brutality man! ” 
 
 I take another sip and grimace... ” I just wanted a nice night out with my mates but ohhh no, turns out I'm the problem for wanting them to stop swinging fuckin fists at each other....it ’ s like they did n't want help....like they did n't want to stop fighting! ” 
 
 I glance up at the flickering, plinking light...'The world's fucked....it ’ s just a crab bucket man... just a crab bucket full of bastards' 
 
 I look across for sympathy and support but find the man walking unsteadily away, his stilettos click-clacking their way to the exit. 
 
 ‘..s ’ bit rude ’ I thought, before spotting a napkin with a quote written in lipstick beside his empty plate. ‘ I offered them Utopia, but they fought for the right to live in Hell. ’ 
 
 I watched him stride across the car-park, the lights flaring on his car as he clicked his remote alarm and demurely seating himself before firing the engine and re-joining the empty motorway. 
 
 …s ’ fucking typical ’ I thought as I stand up, adjusting my cape and placing my cup back in its saucer with an empty sounding clink. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

