in America

the obvious things are not the things that shock me so much. when i landed in london on the way out, the airport looked nice. big. clean. but that could be anywhere. bulgaria is still the dumps in a lot of places, but find the right restaurant in varna and you're straight back into 21st century. find the wrong gas station on Delmarva and you're somewhere around 1985. it's all perspective.
i was at one such gas station, the closest one to my american house, right on racetrack road, and i was dying to get to the beach. mom was letting me drive her car. all the pumps were full, and there was one car waiting. i saw a pump open up on the other end and i immediately started to jockey to get there fast, lest a new car enter the station and think it was theirs for the taking. in bulgaria i am so used to having to fight for everything. if you don't hold your place in line, be sure someone will step directly in front of you. i have spent extra 10s and 15 minutes in the grocery store because i was too timid to assert that i was in fact next to be served.
i pulled up next to the other car and rolled the window down. "do you want that pump?" i asked.
the man was white, middle aged, affluent looking. he smiled and said, "no problem. i'll wait for this one."
"i just didn't want to jump in front of you" i said. i always feel the need to give an explanation.
"it's no problem" he said again, as i wheeled over to the pump which was somehow, magically still unoccupied.
"you're so polite" my mom remarked.
i'm so american, i thought. "i've been getting cut in front of for 14 months." i replied. we both stepped out of the car; i ran inside to pay and she pumped. we were out of there and on to the beach in no time at all.