Sunoco Gas Station

It was an imbalanced weight. With a fiberglass handle and a 2lb steel head you couldn’t really balance it in your hand. Instead you would hold it with a tight fist the whole time, trying your best to not let all the gore affect your grip. You loved that hammer. What a pleasure to feel the weight at the end of your hand and to know how much power and momentum you could generate and inflict in a single blow. You gained quite a reputation for that ability.

You even loved the way the hammer would bounce when you missed and struck the concrete beside your target. The hard-stop would shock and reverberate from your hand up your arm and into your shoulder. You grew excited at the thought of your next attempt to break the ridge of their nose or brow having the same force that you just felt in your own hand on the concrete.

The thick pungent odor of blood and vomit that coated the inside of your mask and filled your nostrils when you put it on never stopped smelling like power and control to you. The satisfying dense thud that you could generate from your heavy hammer and long arm became something that you began to realize you couldn’t live without. They say when the only tool you have is a hammer then all your problems start to look like nails. I guess you took that to a very literal extreme. I guess I started to look like just another nail to you too. Maybe everybody did.

That fiberglass handle didn’t quite hold up for you though did it? Snapped when you needed it most huh? Maybe you should have been more precise with some of your blows. Maybe you should have paid closer attention to the small cracks just above the rubber handle. Maybe if you had wiped the blood off you would have noticed the cracks forming. Maybe not.

Oh well, there are so many things that could have been. Who knows, maybe in a different time line you still have your fingers. Just think… If things had gone only a little bit differently maybe you would still have your lips... and earlobes ... maybe even your tongue.

I just hope that when all you have is a rusty old pair of garden shears that not all of your problems start to look like weeds.

Wonderful service staff. Very reasonable pricing. Always a good experience here.

Some of the most rude, people I have ever dealt with. I told them that I could pump my own gas, and after being blatantly ignored, the man proceeded to pump gas for me. The gas was not pumping, so the employee continued to slam the gas pump into my car and then after the ten dollars of gas was pumped into my tank, he proceeded to tell me they did not accept cards for transactions under $20. Horrible people.