I didn’t mean to be a jerk. Sometimes I’m in my head and not paying close enough attention, and other people get mad. It happens more often than I’d like to admit.

We went to the gas station today to fill up both vehicles because I love a great deal, and had 30 cents off per gallon to take full advantage of. To do this properly, I need to pull my car all the way through the fill up lane, so husband can pull his in behind and we both can reach our respective gas tanks with the same hose.

We got there, and I spied a pump opening up. There was a vehicle idling that may have been waiting for an open pump, and I was going to let him take that one, but when his vehicle didn’t move, I took this as my opening, went around him and took my turn. When I got out of the car, I heard yelling, and thought, “Wow, someone is in a bad mood.” Turns out, he was yelling at me for taking “his” pump. I only know this because husband told me I almost started a fight. Oops.

By the time I was old enough to drive, self-serve pumps were everywhere. I’m perfectly capable of pumping my own gas, and in all these years, never set myself on fire or dumped fuel all over my body. I did once step away from my car when it was filling, and the pump thing didn’t click off, so I paid for about 5 gallons of gas that poured out onto the concrete.

This would never have happened if we still had full-service pumps. I remember driving into the Texaco with my mother when I was little.* There would be a “ding ding” sound as she drove over the alert, and the attendants would come out of the station with a big smile. One would stride up to the car in his starched uniform to pump the gas, clean the windshield, check the oil, and the tires. We didn’t have to get out of the car. I didn’t realize at the time how luxurious that was. 

I wouldn’t trade all of today’s conveniences for someone to pump my gas. If I really wanted that luxury, I could just move to New Jersey. Better yet, I’ll just pay attention next time.

*Always trust your car to the man who wears a star. The big red Texaco star.

Image by Stacey Kennedy