Entertainment...

The annoyed looking clerk behind the counter was still withering under the torrent of verbal **** as I finished fueling the Van. Time to pay for it, and I walked towards the small kiosk and as I did took the opportunity to look into the Ferrari that sat nearby, taking in the beautifully contoured Italian car. Way out of my price range. Had no idea how old the thing was, but the cherry red paint was gorgeous as the small droplets of water gathered.

"Look, whatever Karen." The Clerk began, and I took in the small holes in his face where piercings had been removed. His small shirt bore a nametag which read "Mike" and his expression bore a look that screamed bored indifference. His eyes kept flicking to his phone as he listened to her, an occasional half smile crossing his features for some reason.

"Don't fukkin' Karen me, Shithead," She snarled, and my eyes took in the shape of her rounded backside, encased within their denim confines. She had a very nice ass, I had to admit.

"Look, we can't run your card. System's down for everything but cash." Mike shrugged again.

"I'm not fukkin' believin' dis! You! You heard dat, right?" She looked at me, her face blanking at me for a moment, before resuming its angry expression.

"Heard what? Look, I'm just paying for my gas." I pulled two twenties from my wallet and looked over at the clerk whose expression became a mask of pure hatred.

I smiled at him happily, and placed the two bills on the counter.

"Pump three. Thirty Seven Bucks. Keep the Change." I turned, preparing to leave. Not my business, and I didn't want any more fucking drama.

"Uh... Dude... you need a receipt...?' He called after me. I paused, realizing that he was calling after me to try to keep the conversation going for some reason. I looked at the woman, and rolled my eyes.

"Nope." I grinned back at him.

I didn't wait for a further response, and walked right out. Fuck the little shit. I was going back to a cabin with three gorgeous women, and he was striking out with every single gal who came to his gas station. Did he actually think that was going to work?

"HEY! HEY!" I heard called at my back, as I walked around the pump separating me from my van. The woman from the Kiosk hurried up behind me, the sound of her boots against the concrete loud in the quiet morning.

"Yeah?" I turned, looking at her carefully. Her expression was one of annoyed frustration, and I really didn't want to get involved in it.

"Can you do a girl a favor..." she began.

"Nope..." I grinned, and began walking to my car.

"Hey, Hey! I didn't even ask you yet..." She called after me, continuing to follow me.

"You want money, right? No." I said flatly. "That answer it?"

"Uh... well, I was... ok... uh... " She sputtered as I reached my door.

"You want to try again? Because I'm in a hurry here." I pulled open the door between myself and the woman. "You clearly can afford gas, so NO, not spotting you money you'll never pay me back."

"Ok... ok... trying again." She paused, taking a breath. "Hi... I'm Nikki, and dey don't take card here, and I'm on fumes. Help, please?"

"Can't you call somebody?" I pointed to the cell phone in her hand.

"I... I think his phones off or somethin'. Ok... hey, look, what if I park it over dere, could you give me a quick lift? Just a few miles up the road?" She tried. "Look, dis guy is makin' me really uncomfortable."

"You were... yelling at him." I pointed out. "Look, don't bullshit me here. You fucked up, and and you're looking for someone to rescue you. Let's just keep it there, and this will go a LOT faster."

"OK, fuck... fine... I don't want to blow a guy for gas. I don't want to blow you for a ride. And when I find out why my fukkin husband isn't answering his phone, I'm probably gonna not want to blow him, either."

"Ok, fine. I can work with that," I looked at her, taking in her dark brunette hair and blue eyes. Pretty, olive skin, and two dangling pieces of metal hanging off each ear.

"Quick ride, three rules. One. You don't give me any shit about the condition of the car." Damn, actually, nice tits. I mean, not compared to Charlotte, but the deep crease that ran down the center of her low cut shirt caught my attention handily.

"Two, " I continued. "No complaining about the guy you were yelling at." I pointed at the kiosk, where the clerk was no longer paying attention. Her eyes followed my hand, and I couldn't help but notice that she had a nice curve to her hip. Just thinking about how that would feel under my hand... nope... keep it professional.

"And three, you say Thank You. Nicely." I said directly. "I'm doing you a favor, so you acknowledge it, and don't treat me like slime for being direct about it.'

"Thank you." Nikki said after a moment's thought. "Just give me a minute to move the car."

It took longer than the minute, especially when I had to help her push. The thing was completely out of gas, and she hadn't been kidding that she wouldn't have made it down the road. Hell, she hadn't even made it into the parking slot. It was a rough couple minutes, and I thought I heard the shout of "Simp" from the kiosk, but when I turned to look the clerk had busied himself in his phone.

"Real fukkin mature..." Nikki grumbled, grabbing a small black bag out of the passenger seat of the sports car. She locked the vehicle with a quick button press and breathed out. "Just... ok... not gonna say it... sorry... sorry... thank you. Again."

"Yeah, well, I fully expect you to reciprocate somehow," I nodded. "But I'll leave it up to your imagination. I find things are more interesting that way."