Mark likes to buy gas when the tank is registering half full. We stop for gas a lot. Which is okay because it gives us plenty of opportunities to get out and stretch. The problem is that once you choose a lane, you are committed. It's just not that easy to back up and get in line for a different pump when there's a camper behind you.
Often when you're making your pump/lane selection you're not able to see what is going on until you're committed. By the time we could see that no one was actually pumping gas into that truck, it was too late. We assumed that the driver had gone into the store and would come out and move any minute. The polite thing to do is pump your gas and then pull into one of the parking spaces and then go in. But not everyone is polite.
After what seemed like an eternity, but was actually about five minutes, two women came out of the store and got in the truck. They looked at us but made no effort to move. Perhaps neither of them could drive. After another five or more minutes, an old lady and a young girl came out of the store and also got into this truck. Still no driver.
We waited and hoped that the driver was not the young lady who'd been sitting on the curb chain-smoking for the past 15 minutes. Then we spotted a young man headed for the truck. He'd been next door at McDonald's. But alas, he wasn't the driver either - he got in on the passenger side.
Finely a surly looking guy came out of the store. Could this be the driver? Yes!! After 20 minutes, we were finally going to get some gas. But instead of getting into the driver's seat and driving away, he STARTED pumping gas. I was stunned. And I was watching him closely because if looks could kill, that man would have dropped dead. While I was glaring at him, I noticed that he seemed to have a bit of trouble getting the pump into the right spot. When another young man came out of the store a few minutes later with a six pack of beer, I think I figured out the reason. Still couldn't believe he had actually pulled up to the gas pump and then he and his family all "went shopping".
Unbelievable! I'm sure that word came out of my mouth more than once. He may have been telepathic, or maybe he could read lips because after he finally moved, he parked where he should have been parked while he and his crew went shopping. Then he got out and started walking toward us. I never took my eyes off him. However, Mark refused to acknowledge him at all. I think he wanted to fight but maybe thought better of it. Getting arrested for starting a fight is probably a good way to go to jail (if you're lucky or deported if you're not.)
But even when you're not dealing with the mentally challenged, getting gas in Florida isn't easy. We pulled off the Interstate and drove into a brand new 7-Eleven. I guessed it was new because the signs out front said "Now Open". We chose a line with only one car in it. And when we were committed to that lane I noticed that while there was a woman sitting in the driver's seat, no one appeared to be pumping gas. I just couldn't believe that everyone in Florida is so rude that they park in front of the pump no matter what. I went inside to use the ladies room. There was a big line inside, which is a bit unusual, but since I wasn't buying anything inside I didn't worry too much. After we found out what was going on, I suspect they were all lined up to complain.
When I returned to the car, we were still waiting for our turn. Finally a young man came out and attempted to pump the gas. I was watching the numbers turn. Slowly. I watched it for a minute or two and he only had a bit over a dollar's worth of gas. I'd noticed when I went inside that there was 55 cents pumped already so I decided to investigate.
"Hi. Is this pump working right?"
"No. It is not. It's just taken two minutes to pump a dollar's worth of gas. I'm about to give up."
"Hmmm. Good to know. I think maybe we should try someplace else."
"If you want gas tonight, that's a good idea."
Once the people in the next lane had moved we were able to get around them and get out. There were some one-way street issues and by the time we got gas and made it back to the Interstate, we'd added about 40 minutes to our journey. And in the words of a very wise woman - "ain't nobody got time for that!"
No comments:
Post a Comment