Maybe it was because I was a new transfer student, or maybe it was because I lived off-campus in Cambridge, but my first year attending Boston University, I did not have an abundance of friends. And neither did Ashlyn for that matter. We spent a lot of time together, exploring the city, shopping and trying out new coffee shops. We also spent a lot of time befriending the man who worked at the Mobil Mart below our apartment complex. This perhaps does not sound like the most fulfilling experience. If someone had asked me before I moved how I thought I’d be spending my weekends up North, I would not in a million years have responded by saying I’d be spending my nights with my roommate, befriending the man who worked at the nearby Mobil Mart.
But surprisingly enough, this odd pastime became one of the defining activities of my first year living in New England. It started off one night when Ashlyn and I were up late watching movies and in need of a late night snack. So we went down to the Mobil Mart and started chatting up the man working behind the counter, Mohamed. He was interesting and funny. Talking to him was a lot more entertaining than watching Valentine’s Day upstairs in our apartment.
And this somehow became a habit. We would go down to talk to him every weekend during his shift (he worked everyday from 7:00 PM to 7:00 AM). He would let us sit behind the counter and he told us stories of his past. He had immigrated to the U.S. from Egypt, he had a fiance, and he had many dreams. He worked those treacherous hours everyday in hopes that someday he would save up enough money to bring his fiance to America too. Although his life was far from ideal, he stayed positive and never once complained. Somewhere between the free cups of coffee he gave us, and the jokes about the drunk people stumbling in around 2:00 AM, the three of us formed a real friendship.
I have since moved away from that apartment, and Mohamed is now working as a falafel delivery man. But we still keep in touch and I frequently escort him while he makes his deliveries. Now on the weekends, I partake in activities more typical of a college student. But I still look back fondly on the countless nights spent at the gas station and the lasting friendship it led to.
Life in New England 