On the day of my stitch n bitch, there arose later in the day a situation worth
bitching about. This was my trip to one of those pre-pay gas stations. I try to avoid
them, and DH admits to leaving any pre-pay gas station and finding a "normal one" but
I had to go to the bathroom. It was right before my second appt. after SnB, so I went
to the gas station and figured I'd refuel as long as I was there. Well, it was a
prepay one, and it was packed. I didn't want to try to reverse in a circle to reach a
pump on the opposite side of my tank so I figured I'd wait it out behind a parked car
near the diesel pump, conveniently blocking the gas pump I'd selected. Meanwhile the
owner of that car comes out with a bottle of oil after several minutes' time. Ok, I
thought, I can be patient (I should really be knitting this out) I'll let this guy
put in the oil in his car.
So he proceeded to open the hood, and add the oil. Then he gets into his car and
starts it up, and begins reversing- right at my new car! I had no idea why he had to
back up when there wasn't a car in front of him, but I followed, and backed up too.
Then I realized what he was doing. He was going to pump his own gas at the pump I'd
been waiting for!
So I zoomed past him into a different spot, rather irate by his behavior. I parked. I
went in, and used the bathroom. Upon exiting the restroom the first thing I laid eyes
on was a bag of circus peanuts. That reminded me of my Grandma, who often had those
big marshmallowy candies at her house. I had to buy them so I did, along with $15 of
I walked out to my car, had to open my car to open the gas tank door, and began to
pump my prepaid gas. Nothing happened. It didn't work. It was at this point that I
realized that I had paid for gas at pump 8, not pump 2 where my car was parked. Crap
I thought, now what!? Surely the gas station person can push a little button and
transfer the gas from that pump to mine. But she couldn't. She did proceed to tell
the person in front of my prepaid gas pump what I had done.
I felt silly, and a bit annoyed. I hadn't been able to see the pump number with a big
Comcast truck blocking all but the furthest away pump numbers. I wondered what to do,
by now frustrated and almost willing to donate that 15 dollars of gas for the price
of my sanity.
I was also feeling a bit unsafe, there had been a man yelling at the gas stations
cashiers to give him 75 cents. I thought of some of the families I know. I would not
want to get on some of their bad sides- and I felt nervous and annoyed.
Then I stood looking at the pump that held my prepaid gas and trying to brainstorm
how to get it. Fortunately some man walked over the the pump where a big pick-up had
just parked and told him of the situation. He held my spot so I could reverse and go
to a pump I hadn't wanted to go to, but had to go to. And I got my 15 dollars of gas.
I was on my way to a sesssion, and knew my frustation would ruin my objectivity in my
work. So I called DH to vent. And that was my worst gas station trip yet. Plus, my 15
dollars of gas only partly filled my tank so I might have to do the whole process
over again tomorrow. Let's hope not. Now I need to go veg with my Jaywalker for
solace from the retraumatization of that experience.