Speaking of Costco, I found myself there again yesterday in order to fill up my car with gas. Its pretty cheap there, and as I am now an exclusive member with access to all the rights and privileges associated therewith, I thought I might as well take advantage of it.
For some reason, Costco employs a man whose sole duty is to watch people pump their gas at the station. He walks back and forth, inspecting people’s gas-pumping techniques like a military commander inspects a soldier’s barracks. As I pulled up to the station I thought to myself that having the man there was pretty silly. Filling your car with gas is a pretty simple process, especially since the pumps have those little computers that won’t let you get any gas until you pay, so I think everybody there could probably handle the job without any supervision. After all, we are Costco members, we’re smart enough to recognize the cost-efficiency of buying in bulk, so we’re more than qualified to pump some gas.
I was waiting for my tank to fill up, simultaneously filling up with derision for the attendant man, when a lady in a mom wagon-style SUV pulled up to the pump on the other side of me. She got out and went about her business, but I paid her no attention. I was washing my windows, which was covered in the slaughtered remains of innocent bugs. The gas man came my way, and suddenly spoke.
“Ma’am, you need to turn off your vehicle before fueling.”
The lady with the SUV said, “Oh,” and turned off her car. I was in shock. She seemed to be in her mid to late 30’s, and yet did not have the common sense enough to know she had to turn off the engine before pumping gas. I was standing not five feet from her car, so I wondered what might possibly have happened if the gas man hadn’t been there. I don’t know much about mechanics, but I suddenly imagined her vehicle exploding, killing us both instantly in a tragic and news-worthy sort of way.
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