Card reader broken. Please pay cashier inside. Thank's!
Margot groaned and checked her phone to see if there was another gas station nearby. One that had working card readers and signs with proper grammar.
No luck. This truck stop was her only option for twenty miles, and she was already squeaking by on empty.
She rested her head against the top of her car. It had been a shitty trip so far. A late start on the road. A call from her former landlord claiming that she'd damaged a wall. And now an empty tank at the sketchiest truck stop in the middle of absolutely nowhere.
Deep breath. "Here we go."
Between her car and the gas station entrance, there were three girls, women, wearing skimpy, tight outfits and making seductive faces at her like they didn't know how else to interact with people. Knowing smirks, licked lips, hooded eyes. She avoided eye contact, but that took her gaze to a truck parked at the edge of the lot, where yet another woman was talking to the driver and preparing to climb inside the cabin with him.
Margot realized she might be the only woman in a ten-mile radius who was wearing long sleeves and no makeup. At least the other truckers milling about ignored her.
She hated the inside of gas stations, especially at night. The harsh fluorescent lights made her feel like she was in some kind of Geneva Convention-breaking torture chamber, and the cashiers always wanted to make chit-chat.
This cashier had a bushy grey beard peppered with food crumbs. She smelled sour cream and onion when she got close to the counter. Another scantily-clad woman, blonde with dark brown roots, stood a few feet away at the counter, idly chewing on a candy bar. She was technically looking in Margot's direction, but she had that look in her eyes like she wasn't really seeing whatever she was looking at, glazed over and distracted by unreachable thoughts.
"Evening, Miss," the clerk said. "What can I do for you?"
"I need gas," Margot said, pulling out her card. "Let's do nine gallons on pump three."
He took the card from her, swiped it on his machine. "What brings you to our little corner?" he asked. He wasn't subtle about eying her chest, even through her thick sweatshirt.
"Just passing through," she said with a tight smile.
"What's your shirt say?" the girl eating the candy bar asked, so suddenly it took Margot a moment to realize she was talking to her. She turned to the girl, who still had that glazed look, still chewed the candy bar like it was made of pure, thick caramel. A tiny bit of drool leaked out of the corner of her mouth.
Margot didn't answer, but angled herself towards the girl, pulling on the bottom of her sweatshirt to make the letters clearer. The girl kept chewing, made no attempt to look closer.
"Amber's got bad eyesight," the cashier said apologetically. "Doncha, darlin?" He winked at the girl.
Amber just giggled.
Okay. Whatever. "It says Brown University Law School."
"Whazzat?" Amber asked.
"School, darlin," the cashier said. "You know."
Amber shrugged, eyes still shiny.
The cashier cleared his throat. "Amber, honey, I think I see Gunther pulling up. You know how much you like talking with him."
Talking, sure. Margot was sure Amber and Gunther had plenty of hard-hitting topics they liked to "talk" about.
Amber grinned, but then her face fell. "You ain't gonna let her play, are you?"
"Amber..." The cashier gave her an almost parental, warning smile.
"'Cause I got the top score right now, and I don't want this bitch messing it up."
"Excuse me?" Margot asked. Her first instinct was to be insulted, but really, she was just amused by the absurdity of whatever was going on.
"No one's messing anything up, darlin. Run along, now."
Amber gave Margot a final glare, and went outside.
"What was that all about?" Margot asked when the door shut.
"Oh, the girls got this game they like to play..." The cashier shrugged and trailed off. "So, you're a lawyer?"
"Um, yes. Sort of. Almost. I'm on my way to Seattle for a job at a firm."
"Well, that's exciting." He frowned at his computer screen. "Mmm, looks like things are moving a bit slow tonight. Sorry about that."
"Is there a problem with the card?" Margot asked. She cursed herself silently for not bringing more cash. She'd used most of it tipping the movers. She had maybe five bucks crumpled in one of her cupholders. Not even enough to get her to the next station.
"No, no. It's on our end," he assured her. "We'll get it sorted out, don't you worry. Meantime," he pulled a coin out of his pocket and tossed it to her. Margot looked at it. It was a token, gold-colored with an image of an eye on one side and the number one on the other, "free round to see if you can beat the record." He winked at her.
"What's the game?" she asked.
He jerked his head to the side of the store, where a single pinball machine sat in an otherwise empty corner.
"I'm not really into pinball," she said.
"You've been driving awhile, right? Best excuse as any to stretch your legs a bit before you get going to Seattle."
He was right, Margot realized with a grimace. This might be the sketchiest place she'd ever seen, but she was staring down the barrel of another twenty hours of driving on mostly boring interstate, so if she had the chance to distract herself with something colorful for a few minutes, why not take it?
The machine lit up as she approached, displaying a lurid, cartoonish image of a girl who looked quite similar to Amber and the other women who had been hanging around outside. Yellow hair, clownish makeup, big boobs barely covered by a tight, hot pink tube top, and crazy tiny jean shorts opened at the fly. She stood in front of a gas station almost identical to the one they were at, with trucks parked outside and everything. A cartoon trucker stood on the other side of the image, leering at the woman with bug-eyes and a long tongue. Across the top, light-up letters declared the game's name.
Lot Lizard Lucy.
"Hi!" a bright, friendly woman's voice came suddenly from the machine, making Margot jump. "I'm Lucy. Wanna play with me?" The voice was girlish, high-pitched, dripping with as much innuendo as possible.
"Sure." Margot sighed and put the token into the slot.
Instantly, the machine lit up with bright colors and loud pinging sounds. "Ooo!" Lucy's voice moaned. "Thanks for putting it in so nice, baby. Let's get started. I can tell you're a pro at this already."
"Jesus Christ," Margot muttered, unable to conceal a laugh.
A marble flew down into the slot. Margot couldn't remember the last time she'd played an arcade game, let alone pinball, but she at least knew how to get it started. She pulled the plunger back with one hand, and readied her fingers at the left flipper button with the other.
Pretending like she knew what she was doing, she let the plunger go. The marble flew out so fast that Margot couldn't even track it at first. "Oh, shit," she muttered, realizing she was about to lose it to a hole. She reached forward and pressed a button to flip it away.
"Nice catch, slick!" Lucy declared.
Margot actually laughed. "Thanks, Lucy." She watched as the marble shot through a tunnel and snaked back towards her. She flipped it back again. This was actually pretty easy. And pretty amusing.
And pretty...hmm. Margot shook her head. Every time the marble hit something, the machine vibrated a little bit, and Lucy's voice came through with a sexy "Ooo" or "Ahh." Margot shuddered once or twice, hearing Lucy's voice, feeling the machine jiggle. She swallowed, trying to figure out why she was having that reaction. The game, really, the whole station and all its inhabitants, were so far out of the realm of anything she normally found appealing. But she found herself following the marble as it zipped through the machine, eagerly awaiting the next time Lucy would make another pornstar-like sound. It gave her a jolt, like she was seeing someone she'd missed after a long absence.
When Margot managed to keep the marble in the alley for awhile, maybe a good two minutes, Lucy decided it was time for a celebration. Her image lit up in time with her words. "Oh my gawsh!" she squealed. "You can keep it going all night, can't you?"
Margot bumped the marble again, and it jumped up and landed in a small bowl. "Ohhh, yes!" Lucy yelled, and Margot could perfectly picture the cartoon hooker spreading her legs and throwing her head back in an orgasm. She could even smell the interior of the truck she'd be fucking in, the stale bits of uncleaned food and spilled coffee, feel the greasy leather and rough blankets at her back. It made her take in a sharp breath. "That's the money shot, baby! You deserve a reward for that."
There was a blowing sound from inside the cabinet, and then a moment later, the marble shot up into the air, landing a few inches away.
Margot gurgled, buckled forward on the cabinet with a sudden zing between her legs. As if the puff of air that had propelled the marble had stimulated her vagina as well.
"Ohh, did you like that? Did that make you feel good?" Lucy asked in a sultry tone.
Margot groaned, the side of her face pressed against the glass. What the hell was that?
"I said," Lucy repeated, slower, but with the same attitude, "did that make you feel good?"
