Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Adventures in Gas Pumpery

I love living in the city. I do. Mostly because there are people EVERYWHERE. I grew up in a small house filled with people. So, while this bothered me growing up ("Emily, here's your first bra. Please try it on while your six-year-old sister sits and watches.") I've come to realize that I can no longer live without people constantly bumping into me. I don't even like when my roommates are gone. What, the TV all to myself?! What am I supposed to do with that, watch whatever I want? Laaaaaame.

But here's the other thing. I hate living in the city. There are people EVERYWHERE.

I borrowed Monica's car yesterday to go to my interview (and thank you all for your non well wishes, it went well) so last night when I got home, I went to fill up the tank. As soon as I got out of my car, another car pulled up behind mine. That's weird, just seconds ago, there had been open fuel stations all over. But I try not to think about it and get going on my gasoline adventures.

I swipe my card, it asks for the zipcode, and of course, it doesn't read my frozen fingers' 666001112266 as a proper zip code. So I cancel and start over. Then it doesn't read it. Then it reads it, but the nozzle won't fit right into Monica's gas tank. And it's cold as shit so I'm talking to all of these items as if they are my misbehaved children. "What's wrong now? You don't want to fit? Come on, I don't have time for this. I am telling your father about this when he gets home." etc etc etc. So finally all is going well...and a man walks up behind me.

"Excuse me, Miss." I turn around. The man is showing me his drivers' license and some other card. Oh, God. I'm trapped. But I'm also highly on edge from the whole commute + misbehaving gas experience. So I interrupt him and just say, "No. Please don't talk to me." in a very authoritative, I-didn't-know-I-could-be-that-aggressive kind of way. Which was pretty stupid because, as previously stated, I'm trapped. The man does a bit of a double take. I don't think he was expecting guff from the white girl with the Sebring. "Whoah, girl, is everything alright?" So at this point I almost want to apologize because I really didn't mean to come across that cruelly. "I'm so sorry, sir. Please, take whatever you want. My iPhone? Here. I have some whole wheat crackers you can nibble on as well. Would you like my subscription to I'm Awkwardly White Weekly?"

But I've got a whole act going, and it seems like it might get him to go away, so I just go with it."No, I'm just having a REALLY bad day so if you could please just leave me alone."

"I'm sorry, Miss, something something two-year-old something something so if you could just help put a few dollars worth of gas in our car something something."

"No, sorry." So the man leaves. ICE COLD. That's me. ICE. COLD. All this nonsense about me being a good person because I volunteer? FALSE. I am a bad person who wishes harm upon 2-year-olds in the dead of winter.

So at this point I am dying to get out of there. I had put five dollars worth of gas in the car, which is about how much I had used, so I put the nozzle back, screw the thing back in, and I'm set to go. And the little credit card reader thing tells me, "Cashier has receipt." Oh HELL NO. I am not leaving this car. There are spurned people behind me and I don't know what they are like when spurned. Luckily, the words change to "Welcome" and I get my ass out of there. Then I irrationally start hyperventilating, thinking these people could follow me! They could break my bones! They could steal my subscription to I'm Awkwardly White Weekly! That's when I look down and realize--Monica's gas gauge has not changed AT ALL. I might as well have put nothing in it. That puppy is in the exact same spot it was when I got there.

And all of a sudden, I am sobbing. Just sobbing. The stress from the interview, plus the commute, plus that man, plus an earlier incident I saved you from involving my period--it all just came out in one giant sob fest while I turned Monica's car onto our street and attempted to parallel park through the snow banks.

Luckily, the night ended with Joe, Lost, Girl Scout cookies, and me singing "Chin Up" from Charlotte's Web, complete with dance moves and lunges.

So...pretty normal day, all in all.


Liketohike said...

Uggghhh, stress just adds up till it takes you over sometimes.

When I was similarly approached by a man at a gas station, I was in a good mood and happened to have a large bill on me ($10-20 is large for me!) and I gave it to him. And I had almost the same feelings of regret as you. What if he just made it all up to scam me? Just wanted to let you know it's just hard to know what to do in those situations. Plus, I'm sure that man has had those kind of days before.

Rah said...

And the "Worst Day in the History of the World" award goes to.....EMILY for her performance in "Job Interview and a Weird Awkward Man". I'm sorry your day was such a made me feel better (only a little though -don't get too excited) about this super crappy week.