"What's wrong with you tonight?"
Mom asked. "You're all kapakahi and mōkakī,""I was standing in line at the gas station to pay for gas and some chips and a drink," I shared with her. "The girl cashing me out was having a great fun conversation with the haole guy in front of me, but when I walked up to pay for my stuff, her attitude completely changed. She acted like I stole something or was in the process of stealing something."
"What do you mean?" Mom asked.
"She asked me if that was all I was getting and if there was anything else, and I said no. Then she asked me if I had anything in my pockets, and I said just my keys and my wallet," I took a breath so I could gain my composure and not raise my voice. "She comes around the counter and starts patting my pockets in front of everyone waiting in line. I got pissed and told her that I did not see her shake down the haole guy in front of me, and she said she did not have to because he was not a thief. I made the mistake of throwing everything at her, including my money."
Mom picked the phone up and made a call. Whoever it was, was told to meet Mom in ten minutes at the gas station down the street. She got up from her rocker, grabbed her purse, and walked out the front door. I followed close behind, worried about what she might do. When we got to the gas station, she walked into the mini-mart, and that same girl was there.
"Stay here," Mom instructed me. "And stay out of sight."
Mom went in, and less than a minute later, my brother-in-law Mike showed up in his 85 Impala. He got out, went straight in, got himself a Pepsi, and stood in line. Mom grabbed her own drink and went to stand behind Mike. The same drill, the girl started a conversation with Mike, was entirely flirting with him and laughing like a little girl. Finally, Mike's purchase is made, and he takes his time leaving. Mom is next in line, and the girl starts asking her the same questions she asked me. The girl failed miserably when it got to trying to pat Mom down and search her pockets and purse. Mom knocked her out cold and walked out. We jumped in Mike's car, and he took us home, where we had breakfast before he headed back. Later, after Mike left and it was just Mom and me, I asked her, "Was there a lesson for tonight?"
"Yes, it was supposed to be about patience," Mom said. "But it ended up being about not fucking with the people I love,"
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