Author: Curt Doolittle

(Diary)
Usual rainy day in western washington. Running below empty, I pull in to the gas station. A Loomis truck is parked outside collecting cash, and the doors are locked. From outside through the glass I salute the driver and give thumbs up and he relaxes. A woman finishes pumping nine dollars worth of gas. Fumbles with her phone, purse and cards, and approaches the door as well. Her attire, body language, and facial lines tell a story of someone on the margin who maintains responsibility for herself and suffers through her limitations quietly. I tell her that the cash truck is here and it’ll take a minute or two before they’ll let us in.
When the loomis guard leaves, the cashier unlocks our door, and I say “ladies first” to this woman.
I’m not exactly sure what happened but something akin to the prepaid card booked the gas and for some reason she was stressed about money – I think, just to buy a pack of cigarettes.
I asked the clerk to reset the pump and explain something about the user interface, thanked her and left to pump the gas.
I walk out and this distressed woman asks if I can give her five dollars. I smile, say “of course dear” tell here that we have to take care of one another, flip through the little cash I’m carrying and giver her a five. She tears up and hugs me.
Now, aside from feeling I did my good deed for the day, I”m exasperated. Because this woman doesn’t have seven kids from seven baby daddies, she is responsible for herself, she lacks the capacity for responsibility for others and capital of the higher classes, but she is good christian and american citizen.
And I feel rage that we are abandoning these people across the country, and pandering to immigrants and those who won’t integrate, and those leftists who are selfish, and those credentialists that are simply thieves.
And I want, with every fiber in me, to correct this injustice – and if necessary by ‘aggressively unpleasant’ means.

Love you all.
I’ve had enough.