A Trio of Tried Patience: 2) A Failure to Petroleate

The Universe was rubbing its hands together, chortling with glee last week, messing with Val's patience during Hick's surgery week. 

With The Pony picking Hick up at the hospital Wednesday at 3:00, I took off for town. I needed to do my Thursday errands a day early, because I knew I wouldn't want to leave Hick home unattended. A regular trip to town can be accomplished in 30-60 minutes, depending whether I need to grocery shop. But an errand trip is at least 90 minutes, sometimes 2.5 hours, because I have to drive to Sis-Town.

The long bank wait on Monday had prevented me from gassing up T-Hoe while in Sis-Town that day. So it was still a regular part of my errands. I parked at Pump 4, my usual, since it is directly across from the handicap ramp to the sidewalk. No stepping up and down without a handrail for Val's knees!

As usual, I locked up T-Hoe (no carjacking of Val's valiant steed!) and hobbled into the store to pre-pay and get scratchers. Both registers were manned. A customer at each register. I was next in line. At this store, it's one line. Then the next customer gets served at the register that opens up.

My turn came at the left register. The clerk was a young guy who is always pleasant and efficient. As I stepped up, he said he could help me, but would have to ring it up at the drive-thru register. Not a problem. I always pay cash, so no need to hand over my card to him. It's no skin off my nose that I couldn't enter my gas purchase to add points to Hick's rewards account.

"I'd like $24 on Pump 4. And some scratchers."

Young Guy got out my scratchers, and waltzed off to the back to the drive-thru register. He returned quickly. 

"How much gas did you say you wanted?"

"$24 on Pump 4. Here, you can go ahead and take my money now."

Off he went again. I get an amount ending in $4, because that gives me $6 for my two $3 scratchers, and I come out with an even amount to pay. Since I top off T-Hoe's tank each week, I usually get $24 or $34 in gas.

Wait! Here was Young Guy again.

"I'm sorry. You might want to move your car to a different pump. The nozzle is gone."

"Oh! Well. I guess I didn't notice it wasn't working. I'm not going to move it and walk back in. I have things to do. So I'll just go without the gas today."

Off he went, and brought back my change. Wished me a pleasant day, which I returned to him. He's really a nice guy, always seems to enjoy his job.

On the way out, I was chastising myself for being so oblivious to a broken pump. I guess I just didn't see the sign on it.

Oh, wait! There WAS NO SIGN ON IT! And no, unlike a certain New Jersey cranky old man... I choose not to put diesel (the green nozzle) in T-Hoe's tank.

Seriously. What kind of store has a pump with no nozzle, and doesn't put a sign on it, block it with cones, or rope it off with caution tape?