Why I Don't Like Gas Stations

     Gas stations and I have had a long, eventful history. I didn’t get my driver’s license until I was eighteen, which is probably a blessing to the whole world, and I really didn’t start pumping gas until a few years later because I drove my parents’ cars, and my brother and I kept track of the miles and paid my parents in cash. My dad would usually pump, but once in a great while, I had to face the harsh reality that the car or truck would run out of gas before I reached my destination, and I would be forced to fill it up. I hated filling up. There were several good reasons for this.

     One reason was because I couldn’t get the truck’s gas cap off. I usually could eventually, but one time, I pulled up to the pump at the gas station, got out and tried and tried to get the cap off. It frustrated me so badly, that I finally gave up, got back in and drove away. If you can’t do it, give up. That’s a pretty good motto and I stick to it.

Another time, I was at the gas station battling the gas cap as usual. You know that point where you turn it to the right and it doesn’t budge and then your turn it to the left and it doesn’t budge that way, so you decide the thing must not be designed to open? Well, I was reaching that point, when I heard a voice over the loud speaker at my pump.

     “You want some help with that, sweetie?”

    “Sure,” I admitted, turning red but relieved that I actually wouldn’t have to drive away with an empty tank this time.

     The clerk came out and got the cap off with a flick of her wrist.

     “Thanks,” I said sheepishly.

     “No problem, honey.”

      When you’re blond, you learn to be humble and grateful.

     I now own my own car and her name is Sweet Char. She’s very sweet and when she’s healthy, she’s very nice. The first thing I asked when I bought her was how well the gas cap came off. Not. It was only the second thing.

     Another reason I don’t like pumping gas, other than the obvious reason that you have to empty your entire week’s wages into the tank, is the fact that there are multiple ways to pay. Some, you have to prepay before the pump will give any gas, others will let you swipe your card, and others will let you pump and then pay inside. It’s always a guessing game to decide which method the particular gas station and pump uses. It’s usually a good idea to read what is on the pump. Sometimes I skip that little detail and try to figure it out the hard way.

     There’s a gas station I visit frequently on my way to school that generally has the best prices, but you have to pay inside, which is really annoying. Anyway, I figured I had the whole method thing down since I’d been there multiple times, so I went in to prepay. I hate prepaying because I like to top off my tank and I can never guess how much that would cost. I was standing there, trying to decide how much money to put down, and the lady said, “Oh, you can just pay after you’ve pumped.” Aargh! Why didn’t I remember that from the last five times I had been there?

     Now that I’m older and much more experienced at pumping gas, I don’t have any more blond moments at the gas station. I mean, it’s not like I pulled up to a diesel pump a few weeks ago or anything like that…