I do my best to treat people good. I really do. Regardless of what any family member, long-time friend, or co-worker might say.
(Which is totally something Chris Humphries should have never said 73 days ago. Jackass.)
But sometimes, I just gotta let nature take its course. Powerful force I may be, even I can’t tackle nature. Or karma.
Yesterday, I started the day by reading a really good post by Mark at Yelling Near You (dude is in Canada…cool), and it got me thinking about how some people try to cheat each other so easily.
Now, let’s bust on through to the afternoon.
I left work, did my mile or so walk downtown, and headed home.
Well, what do you know? No gas. The light isn’t on. Yet. But it’s close.
(And my father would have a coronary if he knew. When I was in high school, I’d get grounded when he’d randomly check the car and it had less than 1/2 a tank of gas. Which was totally unfair. But he made the car note AND paid for the gas…so check away, Pops.)
I pull in this convenient store/gas station place and I’m all sideways-jacked at the pump, so I back out, straighten up, and as soon as I start to pull forward…this big truck (facing me) pulls in MY spot.
And yes. I have legally laid claim to this spot because I pulled in sideways-jacked first. I could have stayed that way and blocked part of the station’s driving lane…but I’m awesome and that ain’t how I roll.
Eye contact is made. Even through his dirty windshield. He knows exactly what he’s done. And being the gentleman he is…he gets out and heads inside to pre-pay. Smiling at me.
I’m sure his momma is so proud.
Every other spot is full. Of course it is.
I huff. Say nothing. Sit.
Then the spot on the direct other side of the tank opens up.
I slither right on in.
I’m in no rush, so I get my card, drag around to the pump, slide my card and immediately it says to begin fueling.
I get after it.
Convenience store man comes running out waving his hands at me.
Mr. Store Clerk in really wrinkly shirt: “Wait, wait…don’t start. Wrong pump, wrong pump!”
(Buddy, it’s too late. She is guzzling this $3.17/gal stuff like it’s gold. There ain’t no turning back.)
Mr. I-think-I’m-all-that-so-I’m-gonna-steal-this-poor-girls-gas-pump-spot is on his heels, holding a Coke or something.
Mr. Store Clerk in really wrinkly shirt: “Ma’am, ma’am (FIRST mistake right there, Tutz) he done paid! He done paid. That’s his gas!”
Me: “Huh? He’s over there. I just ran my card.”
(Notice how I clearly understood his sentence.)
Mr. Store Clerk in really wrinkly shirt: “Yes, I know. He pay inside and I accidentally credit it to this pump. You pumping on his money. It did not take your card information.”
Well, well, well. Isn’t that special?
Me: “Excuse me? Do what…huh? Huh? Huh?”
(I’m totally acting like I can’t understand his heavy Asian accent. Which I totally can. And if I would have thought quick enough, I would have broke out in my British accent to bring in all nations.)
Mr. I-think-I’m-all-that-so-I’m-gonna-steal-this-poor-girls-gas-pump-spot is standing there on his side of the pump, watching. And listening.
And I look at him.
And I make eye contact.
And I smile.
Me: “No problem, sir. I’ll finish up here then come in and pay with my card, then HE can fill up.”
I was a tad sarcastic. As I rightly should be.
Mr. Store Clerk in really wrinkly shirt thanks me profusely and returns to store.
I go to my driver seat. Check my hair. Dab on a little lipgloss. Look at my phone acting like I got some important text or something.
Pump jumps. I’m all done.
Wow. That was quick!
I dig in my purse. Take a drink of my water. Check my hair again.
I go back to the pump and he’s still standing there on his side.
No eye contact from either of us.
I then mosey in the store and it takes the clerk no less than 7 minutes to complete the transaction. And I don’t dare rush him.
Mr. I-think-I’m-all-that-so-I’m-gonna-steal-this-poor-girls-gas-pump-spot is so flustered by now…he leaves.
I mean, peels out of the parking lot. Pretty much on two wheels.
I look at Mr. Store Clerk in really wrinkly shirt.
And I smile.
Me: “Sorry about all that sir. Have a good one.”