Believe it or not I didn't have the slightest clue that gas station attendant, Rhonie Sorzano would be the next candidate for Real Women Real Stories, it all happened by chance. I drove into a gas station located along the Eastern Main Road, Arima last Tuesday; my mission was to get diesel for my Toyota van. Photographer Micheal and I had just done a couple of interviews and we had called it a day. As I found my space in the long line of eager fuel takers, a maxi-taxi driver two vehicles ahead of me was returning from paying the cashier and as he approached the gas pump beside his maxi to take his gas, a person, who appeared at first to be a short man carrying a diesel container, dashed in front of him. The man turned to Sorzano who was approaching the maxi whistling a familiar soca tune. The man said, "Miss Lady, gimme this full in diesel." His eyes told a tale of urgency. Sorzano, a petite Indian woman not more than five feet tall, gave him a pitiful look and just as she was about to respond, the maxi-taxi driver began quarrelling and gesticulating in fighting mode. "What @#* is this! How this man just jump out ah nowhere in front of me, ent is ah pay first system, I was here first!" he shouted.

Several other drivers came out of their vehicles and began hurling complaints. Sorzano took off her uniform cap, passed her hands through her short mane and sighed. Her calm disposition in this chaotic fracas was baffling to all of us in the line. "You know we have a pay first system, this man was here before," she told the short man with the diesel container. She then began filling the tank of the maxi. "So wait nah, family, I have to wait ah whole year to just fill a little diesel container," gushed the short man again.

Sorzano replied, "First of all, my name is not family, it's Rhonie and secondly just go and pay like everybody else and come back and I will try my best to serve you." she retorted calmly but firmly, with a smile. As if in a daze the short man proceeded in the direction of the cashier. She then turned to the crowd in the line and announced loudly (her voice much bigger than her size), "Everybody will get gas; relax, we working real fast today!"

Out of the blue a woman in a separate line decided to give her two cents in the already quelled scenario — "Trini people so damn bold-face…"she shouted. Looking at me, (I had just paid my bill and I was waiting to get my diesel after the man with the container) Sorzano whispered, "How she jump in this? You see how people can prolong a dispute? In this job you have to be a people person, you have to know how to resolve conflict otherwise you could have bloodshed in a simple gas station!" I agreed with her statement and I decided that when the crowd had eased up I would ask her for an interview.

Within 20 minutes the gas station was empty and I got my wish.

Sorzano agreed to do the interview as she wanted to highlight the work involved in being a gas pump attendant. "I working in this business 20 years now. I used to work in another gas station but I working at this one in Arima three years now," she informed. I learned that pumping gas was her passion, a job she was proud to perform everyday from 6 a.m. to 2 p.m. "I live in Maracas, St. Josesph and I travel to Arima everyday to work. I just love my job. I love serving people. Everybody tells me that I am a people person. I like to observe people when they come into the gas station, their facial expressions speak a thousand words," the 52-year-old eloquently stated. She then pointed to a man being dealt with by another attendant and declared, "You see that man there, his expression looking real sad, he probably had a hard day, with people like that you have to expect attitude but you have to understand people have their issues and you have to greet them with a smile to change their mood." She then steered the conversation to her own issue, "My husband died some years ago so I know that some days you just feel down and that is why I show compassion to my customers even the ones who ignore the rules and give attitude." She continued her life story taking me back to when she was married at the tender age of 17 and to the days when her two sons were younger.

"My husband was a good looking Spanish man. I got married young and I made children early. I was young and hot in those days but I had my head on my shoulders. I grew up my two boys real strict but we still used to have fun together. I taught them good values and I grow them up as staunch Catholics just as how I grow up. They made confirmation, first communion and everything!" She then took off her cap, rubbed her mane and sighed, "My husband was my best friend, losing him was hard, we used to hunt together in Las Lomas, those were the days." "You could hunt?' I asked. "Of course I love wild meat too. Girl hunting is the best thing. You have to be quiet and observant in the bush though. It's the art of the sport.

"The only thing I hated in hunting was the loud gunshots," she exclaimed. Then we got an unexpected interruption as a voice piped in: "Tantie, you have change for a hundred?" a boy on a bike queried, riding past Sorzano. "No, not today dearie," she responded. Watching the boy ride off into the distance she avowed, "I mind my sons on gas pumping money you know. People underrate these jobs but somebody has to do it. Everybody needs everybody in this world, only when the country has a gas shortage or gas strike that people realise how important people like me are." She then described the occasions when people become desperate for their turn at the pump, in these instances she is treated like a queen, she told me. "They treat us pump attendants as if we are doctors and lawyers when gas scarce…then when gas flowing like water again, they start taking us for granted again!"

But the petite Indian woman with the people personality confirmed that it's all good as her confidence is high and her self worth is overflowing just like the gas she pumps. "Women can do anything men can and sometimes even better. I like what I do and I believe if you love what you do you will never have stress. I doh have stress. You see like that man over there?" — she motioned to a man in a Mazda 3 who was cursing a truck driver over a bad drive — "He looking like he real angry and he not happy with his job or something in his life. The thing is, we need love and not war in this country, everybody always quarrelling and complaining, we need to just relax and enjoy the life that God give us; that is the secret to happiness". "We need more people like you then?" I ask. She blushed at my statement and, taking off her cap once more, she rubbed her short mane and concurred. "I guess we do, Miss Lady, I guess we do!"