Well this little misadventure concluded about 20 minutes ago.
I decided to go out to dinner but, as usual, couldn’t decide between the only 3 restaurants I could think of out of the ~400 within four square miles of here. So, hey, the car needs gas, I’ll just drive up and take care of that while I ponder my options (and maybe see something else).
So I get to the Chevron station, hop out and punch the card in, open the gas tank and set the thing to pumping. Since I’ve got a few minutes I go inside to get some cigarettes and, after waiting in line and having the clerk (language barrier) finally give me what I want, I walk out, hop in the car and leave, still undecided about dinner. I cruise up one of the local thoroughfares for about a mile and a half…
So picture this: four door gey sedan with apprentice old fart at the wheel, merrily driving up the road, trailing twenty feet of gas pump hose!
ACK! I pull into a side street and remove it (my gas cap is still there!), pausing only briefly to kick myself, and put it in the trunk and wheel around and race back to the gas station, fully expecting to see fire trucks hosing the place down and madly calculating how I’m going to pay for this!
I pull up to the light - things appear calm at the station. I pull in and park and go inside. Nobody’s even noticed (more on that in a second)! The clerk is busy and doesn’t at all understand what I’m trying to tell her. Finally she understands that I want her to come outside really badly. She understands it has something to do with pump 6, and heads that way while I quickly grab the hose from my trunk. I catch up to her and show her the hose and she grasps it all, just as I’m treated to something that helps me feel just a wee bit better about it all. Standing at pump 6 is a woman who has put her card in the machine and has already punched the “Press To Start” button and is wondering what to do next.
There ain’t no hose, lady! I am not alone. There’re thousands of us! COMING TO YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD SOON!!!
