Situation: Chris and I worked at Dick’s Phillips 66
The Story: The third and last job that Chris and I had together was at Dick’s Phillips 66, a local gas station in Elmhurst. I needed a second job, so my friend Dan got me a job at Dick’s. A few months later, Chris was looking for work, so I got him a job at Dick’s. Dick’s was great because you didn’t have to do much: you could watch TV, smoke cigarettes (smokes were $1.87 a pack), or anything else that you wanted (I use to play my guitar), and as long as you dropped the money in the safe, closed out the register, and turned off the pumps (a detail Chris forgot once or twice), it was gravy.
What was really eerie about the whole thing was that Clerks came out while we were working there, and people used to come in and call me Dante (notice any resemblance?). Our friend Dan got a ticket from the
Unfortunately, Dick had the misfortune of losing Chris and I at roughly the same time. Chris left for his road trip, and I moved in to the city (not before I broke my patella in Dick’s icy parking lot; I was on workers comp for five weeks). He sold the gas station the month after I left. I think it was because he missed Chris and me so much…