No “Love’s” Lost
Ok, for today’s birthday wishes we have historian Stephen Ambrose (1936), Baseball Hall of Famer Willie McCovey (1938), singer Jim Croce (1943) and British singer/Rock and Roll icon Rod Stewart (1945).
Today is going to be a double posting kind of day (I hope). My original plan today was to put up the photos from last night (which I will post later this afternoon) but fate stepped in and pissed me off again!
On my drive home from Nash-Vegas last night I noticed that the price of gas at the Love’s Travel Stops & Country Store in Columbia, TN (about 15 minutes from home and 30 minutes from Nashville) was only $1.85! I knew that I would be needing gas before the end of the week but decided to chance the price fluctuations and go home as it was getting late.
The School Girl and I carpool in to work this morning as we always do. I decided that I would go ahead and put some petrol into my tank this morning instead of running the risk that I wouldn’t be able to make it back to Columbia this evening without having to get some gasoline. As I pulled off of Interstate 65 into Columbia (Exit 46 for you Rand-McNally fans out there), I noticed the prices for gas had gone up by 10 cents! I was a little irked by this but I knew that I took that chance last night when I cruised on past and it was still cheaper than the $2.19 that is being charged over by my house.
The signs of a bad morning were evident as soon as I entered the parking lot. My gas tank is located on the driver side of my Honda and the only pumps open (only 2 open pumps total, by the way) could only be accessed by reversing into them due to how some people did not pull through. Eventually, I got my vehicle sidled up to pump #4 and jumped out to dispense the gas into my tank. I reached into my left-hand back pocket and removed my wallet from my Levi’s to retrieve my check card from within. I pressed the button marked “Pay Outside” and proceeded to follow the directions to the letter. “Insert Card” it says, so I comply. “Please Wait”. “Remove Pump”. “Please Wait”. “Select Grade”. Now I have to tell you that I am keeping up like a champ at this point. I know what comes next and I am giddy with anticipation. I see it telling me “Please Wait” hoping to see the “Dispense Product” request. I was disappointed (to say the least) at reading the next set of directions from my new enemy, pump #4…”Please See Cashier”.
I sighed audibly and cursed under my breath as I stomped towards the building. I flung the door open and turned in the direction of the soda. I needed a caffeine fix bad (since I am not smoking anymore) and picked up a Mountain Dew. I waited patiently (believe it or not) behind a couple of truck drivers for my turn to converse with the behemoth clerk, that I will call Beulah. (I don’t know her real name but she was greasy and had a large, hair-covered mole sleeping upon the crook of her nose and cheek). I told her that pump #4 was not working properly. She scrunched up her unibrow and looked disdainfully over to me and exclaimed, “Uhh, the pump isn’t on, that’s why.” Well, no shit Sherlock. If the pump was on it would be dispensing gas into my tank right now.
I proceeded to inform Beulah of the steps with which I went through prior to me walking into the store itself. In her infinite wisdom she was able to deduce that the problem must be with my check card. “There is no f-ing (and I did not spell it to her) problem with my card”. I pushed my card towards her sausage-like phalanges and told her to pre-set $15.00 for pump #4. It was at this point that she noticed she could not pre-authorize this pump. She tried again from another register. Denied.
“I cannot pre-authorize this pump,” she explained, “Can you move your car to another pump?” Now, after the long relationship that I have nurtured with pump #4, I was not about to be an infidel. So I calmly and pleasantly informed Beulah the following: “No, I cannot move my f-ing car around the f-ing parking lot. Every other f-ing pump is already taken and if I go back outside I will go across the f-ing street to Exxon!” It was at this point that Beulah called her manager to the front. A line of patrons wishing to pay for their wares was building slowly behind me. You could hear them shuffle their feet back and forth in impatience and annoyance.
Mr. Manager waltzed to the counter with his gravely-voice and porno-moustache to attempt to fix the issue with the pumps. It was at this point that Mr. Manager claimed to understand the issue. “The prices is changin’ and it wouldn’t allow’s us to pre-set da pumps, nuthin’s wrong whitcher card.”
“I knew that my card was fine”, I told them. So, I paid for my gasoline and my Mountain Dew and exited the building without so much as an apology. I could feel that my pressure was up and tried to calm myself down by breathing slowly. I really could have used a cigarette but I abstained (mostly because I had none). I put the nozzle into my gas tank and pulled the trigger mechanism. To add insult to injury, the gas came out of the hose so slowly that I could count each cent as it ticked off on the LED screen.
The entire excursion to get gas took over 15 minutes and allowed me to get The School Girl to work late. I was only able to make it on time by bobbing and weaving through traffic at a break-neck pace. I am glad that I get to leave work early today…parent-teacher conferences for Little Harry. I am sure that can only go well, right?
P.S. This historical posting is number 50!
Today is going to be a double posting kind of day (I hope). My original plan today was to put up the photos from last night (which I will post later this afternoon) but fate stepped in and pissed me off again!
On my drive home from Nash-Vegas last night I noticed that the price of gas at the Love’s Travel Stops & Country Store in Columbia, TN (about 15 minutes from home and 30 minutes from Nashville) was only $1.85! I knew that I would be needing gas before the end of the week but decided to chance the price fluctuations and go home as it was getting late.
The School Girl and I carpool in to work this morning as we always do. I decided that I would go ahead and put some petrol into my tank this morning instead of running the risk that I wouldn’t be able to make it back to Columbia this evening without having to get some gasoline. As I pulled off of Interstate 65 into Columbia (Exit 46 for you Rand-McNally fans out there), I noticed the prices for gas had gone up by 10 cents! I was a little irked by this but I knew that I took that chance last night when I cruised on past and it was still cheaper than the $2.19 that is being charged over by my house.
The signs of a bad morning were evident as soon as I entered the parking lot. My gas tank is located on the driver side of my Honda and the only pumps open (only 2 open pumps total, by the way) could only be accessed by reversing into them due to how some people did not pull through. Eventually, I got my vehicle sidled up to pump #4 and jumped out to dispense the gas into my tank. I reached into my left-hand back pocket and removed my wallet from my Levi’s to retrieve my check card from within. I pressed the button marked “Pay Outside” and proceeded to follow the directions to the letter. “Insert Card” it says, so I comply. “Please Wait”. “Remove Pump”. “Please Wait”. “Select Grade”. Now I have to tell you that I am keeping up like a champ at this point. I know what comes next and I am giddy with anticipation. I see it telling me “Please Wait” hoping to see the “Dispense Product” request. I was disappointed (to say the least) at reading the next set of directions from my new enemy, pump #4…”Please See Cashier”.
I sighed audibly and cursed under my breath as I stomped towards the building. I flung the door open and turned in the direction of the soda. I needed a caffeine fix bad (since I am not smoking anymore) and picked up a Mountain Dew. I waited patiently (believe it or not) behind a couple of truck drivers for my turn to converse with the behemoth clerk, that I will call Beulah. (I don’t know her real name but she was greasy and had a large, hair-covered mole sleeping upon the crook of her nose and cheek). I told her that pump #4 was not working properly. She scrunched up her unibrow and looked disdainfully over to me and exclaimed, “Uhh, the pump isn’t on, that’s why.” Well, no shit Sherlock. If the pump was on it would be dispensing gas into my tank right now.
I proceeded to inform Beulah of the steps with which I went through prior to me walking into the store itself. In her infinite wisdom she was able to deduce that the problem must be with my check card. “There is no f-ing (and I did not spell it to her) problem with my card”. I pushed my card towards her sausage-like phalanges and told her to pre-set $15.00 for pump #4. It was at this point that she noticed she could not pre-authorize this pump. She tried again from another register. Denied.
“I cannot pre-authorize this pump,” she explained, “Can you move your car to another pump?” Now, after the long relationship that I have nurtured with pump #4, I was not about to be an infidel. So I calmly and pleasantly informed Beulah the following: “No, I cannot move my f-ing car around the f-ing parking lot. Every other f-ing pump is already taken and if I go back outside I will go across the f-ing street to Exxon!” It was at this point that Beulah called her manager to the front. A line of patrons wishing to pay for their wares was building slowly behind me. You could hear them shuffle their feet back and forth in impatience and annoyance.
Mr. Manager waltzed to the counter with his gravely-voice and porno-moustache to attempt to fix the issue with the pumps. It was at this point that Mr. Manager claimed to understand the issue. “The prices is changin’ and it wouldn’t allow’s us to pre-set da pumps, nuthin’s wrong whitcher card.”
“I knew that my card was fine”, I told them. So, I paid for my gasoline and my Mountain Dew and exited the building without so much as an apology. I could feel that my pressure was up and tried to calm myself down by breathing slowly. I really could have used a cigarette but I abstained (mostly because I had none). I put the nozzle into my gas tank and pulled the trigger mechanism. To add insult to injury, the gas came out of the hose so slowly that I could count each cent as it ticked off on the LED screen.
The entire excursion to get gas took over 15 minutes and allowed me to get The School Girl to work late. I was only able to make it on time by bobbing and weaving through traffic at a break-neck pace. I am glad that I get to leave work early today…parent-teacher conferences for Little Harry. I am sure that can only go well, right?
P.S. This historical posting is number 50!
posted by LeBlanc at 10:24 AM
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