pains at the pump

i hate making trips to the gas station. its not so much the 2 to 3 dollars-a-gallon that i'm talking about, though it does take a toll on the wallet. its pumping the gas that gets me. i don't think anyone really looks forward to it. my cousin has never actually pumped her own gas...she goes to a full service place every time. maybe those places are only up north, but i just might need to look into that.

for one, it seems like every gas station has a different order to do things. most of the time, you stick your credit card in and have to go through a whole menu: pay outside, no, i don't speak spanish, yes, i want a receipt, regular please, and so on. but sometimes, you have to flip some kind of switch thing up first on the pump, or the regular is on the far right instead of left, or they throw in the car wash screen hoping you'll push "yes" accidentally.

but the worst part isn't even over. once you've finally gotten through the payment quiz, you have to put the nozzle in the gas tank. sometimes its stuck...or just heavy...or drips excess gas on the short trip from the pump to the tank all over your shoes. then, if you think about it, those handles are probably absolutely disgusting. thank God for the clips that hold the trigger for the gas until it clicks off when the tank is full. if theres one thing to be optimistic about while pumping gas, thats it.

then, of course, theres the perfect pump game that we all like to play. its an art, pumping just enough gas so that the price is rounded up to a whole dollar. but then you pump just a penny over.

anyway, all this serves as a segway into my last visit to the pump. it was new years eve. i was finally on my way to jonathan's. but of course, someone had run the tank down to the "e". i was all dressed for the evening...a cute white cami complete with new jeans and new boots. when i got out of the car, i had a set price at what i wanted to spend. the perfect pump was set at $15. i went through the motions and soon enough, gas at $2.15 a gallon was flowing into my tank. of course, that wonderful clip was doing all the work for me as i stood there and watched the numbers roll. but then, that wonderful invention became my new years eve outfit's downfall.

as the price sped toward my $15 dollar limit, i got ready to de-clickify the clip. however, when i tried to turn it off, it was stuck. unwanted gas surged into my tank as i desperately tried to stop it. i wanted to stop it so much that i actually ended up pulling the entire nozzle out of the tank while gas sprayed like old faithful everywhere. precious gas poured all down my right arm and all over my new jeans and boots. i’m so glad my white cami was spared. everything was a blur, but i'm guessing the clerk saw my state of disarray and shut down the pump because the gas suddenly slowed to a drip.

needless to say, i wasn't too happy. i walked in the mini-mart. "where the atm sign is," the clerk said...i was a bit confused because i didn't need cash. but then i realized that i didn't even need to ask where the bathrooms were...it was obvious by my gasoline-soaked jeans what i was looking for. it was actually kind of embarrassing. by the time i reached the sink, most of it had evaporated, but the smell could knock anyone in the store out. i rinsed off as best i could, but there was no way i could smell like gas all evening, let alone sit in a car for an hour and marinate in the smell. i went home and showered off in something much less pungent...water. and lots of soap.