Small town life

My first job here was at this gas station, as a cashier. It was terrible. I could not understand the local accent at the time, and many, many times, I had to call a coworker to help me communicate with the customers.

A truck stop gas station, with a coffee shop, a sandwich shop, a pizza shop and a little grocery market.

One awfully hot summer day, the station was very crowded. I saw a man get out of a huge truck and come inside the station. He was wearing cut off jeans and he was very dirty. His hands were stained with filth that must have been there for a long time, all the way to his elbows. He walks in, goes towards the restrooms. Later, he comes out and goes to the coffee area. And he comes to the register where I was.

I say "hello" and he puts his coffee on top of the counter.  I tell him how much it was and he pulls a bill out of his front jeans pocket and throws it on the counter. When I touch the money, I notice that it was floppy, warm and wet! And I realise that it was wet with sweat!

I almost died, realising that it was sweat from his balls, his "things", his "parts". It had to be!

Of course, being so terribly hot outside, and the front pocket, and him sitting in his truck ... Oh, my goodness!

I pick the money up with my fingertips and put it in the drawer. I give him his change, hoping he will leave fast so I can go wash my hands!

He says something I cannot understand. I tell him so.

And I notice something nasty, I mean NASTY, in his mouth, stuck between his lower lip and teeth. I had no idea what it was. But it was NASTY. Brown, weird and looking like cat poop!! Sticking out of his mouth!

He repeats what he said before and I repeat what I said before, which was: "I'm sorry, sir, I cannot understand what you are saying. Would you, please, repeat it a little slower?" Of course, by this time, I let my own accent show and he realised I was a foreigner.

He opens his filthy hand and makes a signal for me to wait a little. He pushes the front door of the station open, sticks his head outside and spits something right there on the sidewalk and parking lot. The thing comes out of his mouth in a brown squirt. A long weird brown shitty looking squirt right out of his mouth.

Oh... where did I tie my mule?, I though. (that's a Portuguese saying that means something like, "what in hell was I thinking before I agreed to work here?")

The man, now without that gross thing in his mouth, asks: "WHERE are you from?" as if he was seeing an ET. And I tell him - Brazil.

He eyes get bigger, he does not move or blink and, after a few seconds he says, very loud:

"Brazzzzillll? Are you serious??? Brazzzillll? Oh, my goodness!! Poor thing!! What a TREMENDOUS CULTURAL CHOCK FOR YOU, right?????????? Oh, I can only imagine!!!"

And while he says that, he has his arms open, his body twisting, his filthy hands showing me all the greatness and beauty that surrounded me.

Including his brown squirt on the sidewalk and his wet money in the drawer. I think.