The Gas Station

This evening was one of those times where it seemed I would never arrive home. After work I had some errands to run, and it just kept getting later and later, and I was no closer to home than when I first set out on my drive. By the time I got on the interstate, it was well in to darkness and I was greeted by the biggest, brightest full moon I have seen in a long time. It was right in front of me, mezmerizing me to the point a few times I found myself slamming on the brakes from not paying attention to the road. Maybe it's just because we have had one of the dreariest, gloomiest winters in a long time, and tonight there wasn't a cloud in the sky and you could actually see the moon for a change.

Once I got on the highway, I didn't want to have to get out and in the car another time, so I thought I could make it home, and part way back in to town with the amount of gas I had left in the tank. The closer I got to home, the faster the gauge went down to that big excitement mark. That's what I call the red hash marks when you are getting close to having to get out and walk with the gas can. So I stopped for a little bit of gas at the small town gas station near where I live. They are usually higher in price, but tonight they were right with all of the other stations in the city. It has one pump, and it's the old fastioned kind where the nozzle is on the side, and you have to pull a lever to start the pump.

Besides the pump, there were a couple of other things a person doesn't see every day at the gas station. The first, was a sign taped to the pump that said: "Before turning pump on, wave to the attendant inside for the go ahead," and secondly, another sign taped to the front of the pump that said: "Only local checks accepted for gas." They still take a check for gas!

Sometimes, I just love small town, USA.