EDITOR’S NOTE: Some of the smartest members of the community have stepped up with guest posts during the holiday break in 2024 and now on Saturdays in early 2025. Special thanks to today’s author Jonathan, a second time guest poster, for taking the time to write an anecdote about characters encountered in manufactured spend. You can find his first article from last year here. Have a nice weekend!
Introduction
You know that inner debate we all have when driving home late: “Should I make another stop or just screw it and head home?” “It’s just 10 mins out of the way.” “But it’s late and I am tired.” “Yeah, but one stop is definitely worth it, and Sharalyn is there tonight.” Well, that night, I decided to make that stop. (Note: I’ve changed her name to Sharalyn to protect her anonymity—though I’m sure she wouldn’t care one bit. That’s just the kind of person she is.)
This was at my go-to Speedway for manufactured spend, the kind of place where you know the clerks’ schedules better than your own. I pulled up, expecting the usual, but noticed the door was locked during business hours. Strange. Then I spotted Sharalyn behind the counter, busy with something.
A Quick Backstory on Sharalyn: Sharalyn was one of my all-time favorite Speedway clerks. She’s the kind of person who doesn’t care at all what you do. She told me once she was 43, but honestly, she looked closer to 66—life has been hard on her, and her dental situation (4 teeth left) didn’t help. But still, she was a gem.
Anyway, I wasn’t about to let a locked door stop me. I went back to my truck and called the store. Sharalyn picked up:
Me: “Hey, Sharalyn, it’s Jonathan. Can I come in and do some gift cards?”
Shariee: “Ah, I’m having a bit of trouble right now… I $*!? my pants.”
Me:“Oh… well, that’s okay. It’ll just take a second.”
Shariee: “Alright, I’ll unlock the door.”
Now, at this point, I figured I’d walk in, see Sharalyn awkwardly holding her composure, and move on. I was surprised about what happened next.
No Pants, No Problem
As I walked up, true to her word, Sharalyn unlocked the door—wearing NO PANTS.
She had on a sweatshirt that was juuuuust long enough to make this a PG-13 situation. She went right back to the register while I grabbed my cards. Let’s just say the “Speedway” name was fitting.
I paused for a moment, feeling a mix of surprise and sympathy. “Sharalyn, do you want me to grab you a pair of pants or something?” I offered, genuinely concerned for her.
Meanwhile, another guy walked in behind me, froze mid-step, and said, “Wow… you know you’re not wearing any pants, right?”
Sharalyn, unfazed as ever, ignored him completely. I purchased my cards, gave her a nod of respect, and left.
The End of an Era
Unfortunately, that was the last time I saw Sharalyn. The store was closing, and apparently, she didn’t transfer to another location. I looked for her at many other speedways in the city. Wherever she is, I hope she’s still rocking that I-don’t-give-a-#%&$ attitude.
– Jonathan
Speedway: Where the receipts never stop printing, and neither does your safety paranoia.