The Gentleman Asshole

3:00 am:

The final step in cleaning the cappuccino machine is to push the right sequence of buttons to let hot water run through each of the five spigots to ensure all the pieces have been correctly put back together. It's not so loud that I didn't hear the door "ding" when a custumor came in, but I couldn't hear what he said.

He was a distinguished looking grey-haired man, perhaps in his 50s, dressed nicely enough that I could envision him on the cover of a hybrid between GQ magazine and an LL Bean catalog.

"I'll be right with you," I said, and hurried up to the register.

While walking through a narrow spot to get behind the sales counter there are some coolers stocked with frozen deli sandwiches, burritos and ice cream with a loud enough buzz that again I did not hear what he said. So when I got behind the register, with just a three-foot-wide counter between us, I said, "I'm sorry, I did not hear you, could you please say that one more time?"

"How many times do I need to say it?" he asked.
"Oh, just one more time should do it," I replied.

Then he said, very loudly: "I WOULD LIKE $20 ON PUMP TWO!"
"Um, okay, you got it!" I said, and rang it up.
"That will be $20."

He just stared at me with a scowl on his face while an awkward moment passed.

I repeated: "That will be $20. please."
He points to a $20. bill he had already placed on the counter, near the basket of bananas. I hadn't seen it. "What are you deaf and blind?" he asks.
"Sorry, I didn't see it. Will that be all?"
"Well open your eyes," he says.
"What is your problem?" I ask.
"What is your problem?" he replies. "I am just trying to buy some gas."
"Well, you seem pretty rude about it," I said.
"I am not rude," he replies. "I am a gentleman. This town is rude. This state is rude."

I've heard Missoula and Montana called a lot of things, but rude is not one of them.

"I suspect what you perceive as rude is a response to you being an asshole," I said. "Perhaps you should take a good, long, hard look in the mirror."

He shook his head in disgust, scowled once again and left. I watched him pump gas, get in his SUV and leave. He had Washington plates.

I hope he at least took a good, long, hard look in his rear view mirror as he drove away headed west.