JENNIFER AND STEVEN

Two of my current heroes among our regular customers are Jennifer and Steven.

Jennifer is a pretty 40ish woman who walks with a terrible limp as she comes to the window for her cigarettes. (“I really want to quit, but I’m not ready yet.” She always asks me how I’m doing with my current quit – seven weeks now.) It looks like the whole right side of her body is very, very impaired. I don’t think I asked, but she volunteered one day that she was one of the last people to get polio. (“That sucks”, was the most creative thing I could think of to say.)

She has told me that she is officially disabled, that she goes to the Y for water aerobics (“the only way I can exercise”) and that she has lived in Florida and Alaska. (I haven’t asked her what took her to these places, but did say that she is quite the adventurer. I didn’t say, “given your condition”, but did think this.) The thing that stands out most about her is how cheerful she is – she really kind of sparkles. How has she arrived at a place of such apparent positive energy, dealing with all she has had to deal with? I really would like to know.

I find Jennifer very attractive – not “for a disabled person”, but period. The other day, she made reference to about a third old boyfriend. Me: “I’m starting to think you have left this trail of broken hearts across the country.” Jennifer: “Sort of…”


Steven is a handsome 25ish guy who drives a PT Cruiser. Most of the time, he has his beautiful golden retriever with him, wearing aviator goggles. This is way too cute. Perhaps the first time I talked to Steven, I asked him if the dog likes the goggles. “He loves them – they keep the dirt and bugs out of his eyes when he sticks his head out the window.” I waited on Steven a few times before I noticed the multi-colored, really kind of pretty cast on his right leg. Even then, he walked so normally that I would forget about the cast and be surprised again when I noticed it. I never got around to asking about it. A couple of months ago, the evening cashier Paul said that Steven had told him he was going to have the leg amputated. We speculated about maybe diabetes, but I thought that for that condition they start with a minimal amputation – a toe or foot or something. The only other thing Steven told Paul was that he was “ready to have the pain be over”.

I was the first one to see Steven after his amputation – I think about two weeks after. He was wearing shorts, with his artificial leg right out there to be seen. He said he was getting a lot of physical therapy to learn how to use it. The next time I saw him, maybe a week after, when asked how he was doing, he said that he was having a lot of pain. I could see that he was almost woozy with it. I asked if they were giving him “good drugs for it?” He said not good enough, that the pain was right up to the limit of what he could take.

I have been making a point of leaving the booth and going to get his money from him. He wants to pump the gas. I always ask – and am genuinely interested – in how he is doing. One day he had the foot of his prosthetic missing – he said it didn’t move enough and it was easier to use the accelerator with it off. Twice he has said that he is back to work and that this is good distraction. He is a social worker with kids with developmental disabilities. I think he appreciates my help, but even more my attention. I think he gets it that I like him – that I am approaching him with friendliness more than sympathy. We use each other’s names. I do both like him and admire him a lot.

Each of us who work at the gas station really do admire Steven and go out of our way to connect with him. A few weeks ago he said that he had really messed up his prosthesis by trying to lift one of his clients. His doctor mandated three weeks off of work. Before we knew it, he had flown to Albuquerque to be in a movie with Billy Bob Thornton, playing a Vietnam Vet. When he came back, he said it had been quite the experience. “We’ll see if any of that makes it into the final cut.”


I was thinking the other day that maybe Jennifer and Steven ought to meet each other. This may or may not make sense, but I do have them linked in my head. They are my two big heroes at the gas station.