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 Texaco Gorkhali
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Posted on 09-25-10 8:05 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Mahesh adjusted his name tag as he rang up a newspaper, a lotto ticket, a bottle of pepsi and a bag of dorritos on the cash register.


“That will be $4.60,” Mahesh said.


“How are things going for you guys?” The blonde haired man with a dirty moustache asked as he counted the cash and handed it to Mahesh. Mahesh pushed a few buttons and the tray slid out of the register with a clatter.


Mahesh smiled as he handed back the change, “It is slow but my boss thinks that things are going to pick up.” Mahesh had been giving that same answer for months now.


The blonde haired customer collected the change that Mahesh had put on the gas station counter. He nodded to Mahesh with a smile and sauntered towards the glass door that led outside saying, "Have a good one."


Mahesh looked at the clock and then out of the window. It was dark. Only a few cars were stopped at the traffic light in front of the gas station. Mahesh had been feeling the lull of the atmosphere for a while. The evening gas station shift had a way of numbing the senses with the quietness. Sometimes the white walls and the blinding fluorescent lights seemed to almost close in on you. He felt like he was locked up in a refrigerator with windows.


Mahesh looked at the small photo of his family that he kept under the cash register. Dasain. Playing cards, laughing and taking tika. It was all in the picture. And here he was in the stark cold and unloving atmosphere of this gas station in Dallas, Texas. In the middle of the night, the only thing to give him company was the occasional customer that came to knock on his window. Mahesh permitted his lips to droop into a slight frown.


What Mahesh would give right now to just sit around with his family and share a plate of masu chiura with them right now. Just that thought made a surge of emotion well up inside Mahesh. But he quickly turned it off. He couldn’t afford to go there. He still had a good six hours before his shift ended. And there was no way that he would be able to smile to every customer and greet them if he started to get himself into a funk.


It wasn’t so much that Mahesh wanted his family here with him. He wasn’t that selfish to drag them from their comfort and happiness. One person having to go to a foreign country to earn money was enough. No, he wanted to be there in Battisputali with them. He wanted to lose himself in their lives, their world, their worries and their concerns. How were his brother’s kids? How was their school going?


See, he liked to remind himself, this is what made Nepal special. People cared about you. People worried about you and thought about you. Who thought of Mahesh here in Texas? Some guy with a gun could blow Mahesh's brains out and it would take a while even for his Nepali buddies to know what happened to him.


Mahesh knew that he couldn’t count on anyone here. All these customers and their smiles, it meant nothing. Sometimes it just annoyed Mahesh when they would flash a quick, “Have a good one.” ‘Yeah, right,’ Mahesh would think. He was very tempted on some days to communicate to them through a very Nepali gesture. "Eeeeeh, have a good one," he wanted to tell them sarcastically. He wanted to feed them a lwappa by putting his extended fingers and thumb right over their face in a down ward motion. ‘You don’t know how hard I work everyday. I don’t have the luxury of enjoying “a good one.” You Americans have your family here. You were born here. Your interests and hobbies are here. So it is very easy for you to have not only one good one but many good ones. Your whole life is pre-arranged so that you don’t have to worry about work permits or finding work without having to worry about immigration.’


 ‘What was there in Texas for me to have a good one? It’s not like the customers waltzing in here took time away from their family, friends, hobbies and interests to see me,’ Mahesh thought to himself. ‘No, I’m like the damned traffic light outside. I’m just something that people go by to get their coffee, soda and lotto.’ If he fell sick for two weeks he would be surprised if any of these customers would even inquire about how he was doing or where he was.


Knowing all this, sometimes Mahesh had to strain really hard to stretch a smile on his face when he was welcoming a customer. He’d rather show them how he really felt working in this gas station and living in this country. But he couldn’t afford that.


Nevertheless, just imagining what he might do if he didn’t have to care about this job gave Mahesh a lot of satisfaction. He cursed. And it felt good. So he did it again.


Mahesh often wondered how these customers really felt about him. He felt very self-conscious about his brown skin. Mahesh knew he fit the stereotype of the brown skinned gas station attendant.


Mahesh recalled one little girl a few months ago had come to the store with her mother. The mom had been busy getting a soda. And the girl must have been about ten years old. She looked at him real close and leaned across the counter and complimented him that he looked like someone on television. Mahesh had never received such a wonderful comment about his looks before. He had reached for a lollipop and handed it to the girl with a beaming smile on his face.


“Yeah?” He asked her, “You think I look like a television star? Who do I look like?”


“You look like Apu from the Simpsons,” the girl had responded, flashing a warm smile. “Aren’t you from India?”


Mahesh’s face had fallen at the comment. That was not the TV star that he had wanted to be compared with. Nor was that the country that he wanted to be identified with.


Experiences like this left Mahesh slightly jaded. Not having the proper paper work in the gas station he was desperate to pass himself as an American. So whenever a customer asked him, “So, where are you from?” He couldn’t help but feel a little jumpy.


Every once in a while a really cute lady would walk into the gas station. And something in Mahesh would reach out to her. If the girl showed any slight interest, Mahesh would flirt with her. But sometimes the lady wouldn’t show any interest in him despite him trying to make conversation with her. And then Mahesh would quickly write the girl off as a whore. All these American girls were whores anyway, he would tell himself. Who wanted to be with one of these uncultured bitches? Naah, Mahesh would tell himself. He wanted to line some sindur over the creased head of a nice Nepali girl with black parted hair. He glanced down at the portrait of his family under the cash register. His brother was so lucky to have married his bhauju. She was practically a goddess. Yeah, he wanted one of those laxmis running his house-hold too. Mahesh looked at himself in the reflection of the window facing outside and winked at himself. And in that moment, knowing that he would end up with his own Nepali kanchhi, Mahesh suddenly felt justified in coming to work to Texaco everyday.

 
Last edited: 02-Oct-10 06:29 PM

 
Posted on 09-25-10 8:39 PM     [Snapshot: 47]     Reply [Subscribe]
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Nice read brother !!
 
Posted on 09-26-10 1:20 AM     [Snapshot: 153]     Reply [Subscribe]
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APU from the simpsons, lol
Well I couldn't figure out how his total came that much, you aren't jacking him off, are you?

 
Posted on 09-26-10 2:10 AM     [Snapshot: 186]     Reply [Subscribe]
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good one man..... keep it coming
 
Posted on 09-26-10 2:19 AM     [Snapshot: 145]     Reply [Subscribe]
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Babaal khate,
I am sure a lot of ppl working in gas stations would feel similar as you did. The loneliness, the questions that are thrown at you everyday while at work, the constant questioning of whether life would have been any more prosperous if you hadn't left Nepal, the comparisons with colleagues from high school, etc are quiet a routine. Matter of fact, this feeling is not only limited to ppl working in gas stations but includes anyone who is away from their family and living in states. However, this feeling should not bring anyone down but make us aware wot we are giving away to achieve our goals. 
At the same time, the FAQ, such as "where are your from?" or "are you from India?" should not make anyone mad. The population of US is so diverse that its hard to tell where who is from. People are from all over the world and most people do want to know where you're from because they're just curious. We would have done the same thing if we were brought up here. On the same hand, I do understand there're a few racist people mostly within races of rednecks and black people. But I think we shouldn't make our view constricted based on a few idiots. Just understand how much liberty and freedom we have here although we are brand new to this land. If we compare the way Dhotis were treated in ktm, or just anyone who don't belong to the mainstream ktm culture, the rights and space we get here should be appreciated. 
Therefore, bottom line enjoy ur pretty girls that come to the gas station. Enjoy when people try to learn about ur motherland, I feel proud talking bout Nepal. Ignore a few idiots and best of luck ahead!!
GT

 
Posted on 09-26-10 3:53 PM     [Snapshot: 299]     Reply [Subscribe]
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Namaste,


Thank you for the encouragement and the feedback, especially from Gorkhalitopi. You make a lot of really good points. 


Furke, do you think that total is too much? What would be a more appropriate amount you think?


 
Posted on 09-27-10 8:03 AM     [Snapshot: 399]     Reply [Subscribe]
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@furke---" jacking him off" ?????? ROTF......ani abt the total, newspaper: $1, lotto:$1,pepsi:$1.40,bag of dorritos- 1.99 without tax...isn't that a decent price
 
Posted on 09-27-10 8:23 AM     [Snapshot: 407]     Reply [Subscribe]
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Posted on 10-02-10 4:30 PM     [Snapshot: 572]     Reply [Subscribe]
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Sna,


Your total and mine are not that far apart. I think I'll let the price stand as it is.


 
Posted on 10-02-10 6:21 PM     [Snapshot: 611]     Reply [Subscribe]
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newspaper $1
a lotto ticket, $1
a bottle of pepsi  $1.61
and a bag of dorritos  $.99
_________________________
Total: $4.60

If he got a bigger bag of dorritos like 1.29 bag, then $4.90. I don't think he bought 2.99 bag with 20 oz pepsi, just a guess from daily experience at the job.

 
Posted on 10-02-10 6:31 PM     [Snapshot: 621]     Reply [Subscribe]
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Furke,


I trust your professional experience . The price you quoted has been updated in the story.


Since you work in the gas station, can you relate to the story? Anything you would add or change?

Last edited: 02-Oct-10 06:35 PM

 
Posted on 10-02-10 7:58 PM     [Snapshot: 666]     Reply [Subscribe]
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BABAL khate,

Look, I work at a gas station and go to college. And many students do the same. Its not my choice. But, that's not who I am. I am not going to do 99 cents plus tax my whole life. I am gonna finish my undergrad and then find a decent job and settle down with my new wife (in a process of divorce now). 
I do have to do all kinds of nasty jobs while working like picking up the trash, clean restrooms, sweep/mop floor but I do not complain. What pays off is chance to see hot babes every friday and saturday nights apart from the payroll, free cigarettes, free beer and free gas. Sometimes, I do take phone numbers and then give some business to a local motel. About jackass rednecks and stale niggas, I don't give a damn. I don't care whateva the f^^k they tell me. Well, I will let go if sb steals a 18 pk beer, its not worth chasing him, don't know what the thief is upto. They got all kinds of weapons. So, chill out, take it easy. And, remember you will not waste your whole life in that stinky place. Gas station ra randi ko pesa ustai ho, so get out from there as quickly as possible. Abt me, one more year to go...

 
Posted on 10-02-10 7:59 PM     [Snapshot: 671]     Reply [Subscribe]
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And thank you mr. BABAL khate for acknowledging my price quote
 
Posted on 10-02-10 10:19 PM     [Snapshot: 726]     Reply [Subscribe]
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Thanks for relaying your experiences at the gas station, I appreciate the feedback.


Hey Furke, since you told me about your divorce, you inspired me to write my break-up story. I dedicated it to you.


http://www.sajha.com/sajha/html/openthread.cfm?forum=283&threadid=85137&refresh=1


 


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