Chapter 27

Because if it didn’t, we were fucked. 8

All the talk of money had emboldened me, and when we stopped in Alyson Forest, I decided we might at least try to be creative. Our cash was a finite and precious resource, especially until we managed to convince some credit fairy to wave her wand and give us a break. We might as well at least try to use my credit or my debit card at the gas pump. Perhaps the computer would authorize based on some historical information that was less up-to-date than that to which American Airlines, for example, annoyingly had access. It wasn't like I was trying to scam anybody. I’d pay my credit card bill. I just had to hope we could be sneaky about squeezing a couple of tanks of gas onto it.

“Wait,” I said as we flew down the off-ramp and across the two-lane state highway to the Shell station. “Was that just a bar over there with a rainbow flag hanging out in front?”