This afternoon I discovered that I had 2 pressing needs. Need #1 (and by far the most important of the two) involved a craving for a hefty handful of the new and surprisingly delicious Life Savers Gummies Island Fruit snacks The second need involved the desire to possess a sufficient amount of high quality premium grade gasoline to get me home tonight. As it happens, both of these needs could be satisfied with one trip to the local Chesterfield Seven Eleven!
I arrived at the Sev and went through the process of putting my debit card into the pump and entering my pin. I grabbed the nozzle, placed it expertly in the place where nozzles belong on my car; and squeezed the handle. ...Nothing. I glanced over to the display on the pump to verify that everything was in order. The pump display cheerfully instructed me to proceed; so I squeezed again. ...Nothing again. Squeeze... nothing... check display... squeeze... nothing... check display... squeeze.
Hmm. Yeah this isn't working.
At this point my brain decided to begin planning for future options. Should I move my car? There was an empty stall open, but my card information is already entered into my current pump. What if some random person came by and pumped a tank full of gas on my card?
...At some point during all of this I became a tiny bit unhinged. Squeezesqueezesqueezesqueezesqueezesqueezesqueezesqueeze
squeezesqueezesqueezesqueezesqueezesqueezesqueezesqueeze -cramp- OUCH! (And then I mumbled a bunch of Mormon profanities under my breath)
...I washed my windows.
When I was ready to try again I walked calmly back to the pump and Ugh. Nothing. Those of you reading this who happen to be males will understand that asking the attendant for help is not an option here. All of the attendants are female at my particular Sev and I do possess a small amount of self respect. I'm sorry ladies, but I have to maintain my reputation... as a dude.
So I decided to give up. It was time to throw in the towel. I was going through the motions to put everything back so that I could move to another pump when the nozzle for the regular "shabby grade" gas fell off it's hook and shot gas onto my pants.
Good friggin' gravy!!!
I reached down and snatched the errant pump... and realized that both pump lines were twisted together.
Waaaait a second...
Aaargh! Somebody had put the wrong pump nozzle on my pump hook! I had paid for premium gas, but I was trying to pump it out of the standard gas pump the whole time! (More sordid Mormon profanities)
For those who are concerned for my well being, I was able to gas up my car after finding the right pump nozzle. All is well and I will be able to return to my seedy little apartment this evening. However, as if the fates were determined to add insult to injury, the Sev had officially run out of tasty tasty gummy Lifesavers.
My lot is hard.
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