An Ode to the Shell on Highlands

You have always been there for me, ever since my mom and I got Icees with you before soccer practice. Before I could drive, I felt safe to walk to you. Nothing compares to the day you got a F’real machine. I would walk for 15 minutes in 90 degree Alabama summers for a mediocre, cheap milkshake. I remember the opening of the Bombay street food restaurant, Little India, about over a year ago. I was hesitant at first, with the kitchen being in such close proximity to the Sneaky Pete’s, but the allure of Indian food within walking distance was too strong to keep me away. As a family, we had to wait until my mom was out of town to try it out (she is not fond of gas station cuisine). With my expectations low, I decided to first try the free samosas I was given while waiting for my order. This was the moment I will tell my grandchildren about. This was the point in which my life as I knew it was forever changed. I continued to share my experience with my friends, almost all of whom were doubtful. I would like to formally thank Nyssa and my cousin for their bravery in entering my world of gas station dining. I hope your world has changed as much as mine. I hope you were as touched by this experience as I consistently was.

This is not all to say we have not had our ups and downs. First of all, I would like to formally apologize for never buying gas from you. As much as I love and support you, $2.85 is nothing to brag about in this economy. There was also the time a few friends and I decided to bike to get Icees. Our inexperience in bike riding caused two flat tires, resulting in our carrying of the bikes to and from our safe haven. And, of course, as much as I love those meals provided by Little India, I have been betrayed before. I will never forget the moment I ordered Szechuan noodles and was greeted by “Singapore Rice” which was presented to me with a fried egg on top. I am scared of fried eggs when not served as a breakfast food, and was hurt when I realized you didn't know this about me. Fighting to keep calm, I thanked you and left. I remember the deep pain I felt as I ate my botched order and watched Victorious. I never intended for this to be our last encounter. This was yet another unexpected casualty of quarantine.

May 1, 2020 - This was the day my life was changed for the worse. That day, my father sadly informed me that Little India was to become a taco stand. I was devastated. While I do have a love for tacos, the best part about living downtown was stripped from me. I will always love and support you, but I am still on the path to forgiveness. While I don’t know if I will ever understand, I can accept that it’s maybe for the best. Maybe you are living out your dream. One day, when the wounds are no longer as fresh, I would like to visit you. Moving on does not mean I have–or ever will–stop loving you. 

Yours always,

Clara Rominger