Gas Station Antics

Finally the iPhone has come to Vermont. I resisted for 10 days but being the gadget junkie that I am, could hold out no longer. This slim, magical piece of technology is now residing in my purse and I am ecstatic. It is slick!

Back a few years I experienced a rather unfortunate incident that might well have been recorded on someone’s cell phone had most people had cell phones at the time. That morning the whole town was without power causing all gas stations to be temporarily out of commission. En route to Burlington I stopped in Waterbury to fill up my gas tank where I met many Stoweites doing the same. We chatted as we pumped and reconvened inside to buy coffee for the trip. Back outside, more conversation ensued and then with a hearty wave I drove off to my destination some 30 miles away.

The radio was playing as I travelled the required 65 miles an hour down the highway. After overtaking a number of cars I glanced in my passenger side rear-view mirror where to my horror I saw, not only had I failed to close the gas tank door but had also failed to remove the nozzle. The accompanying 10 feet of hose was flapping in the wind as I sailed down I-89!

What to do now? I wanted to crawl under a rock in embarrassment. How many people had seen me already? Should I pull over and try to rectify the situation and risk being seen by even more amused passers-by? It had to be done. Parked on the shoulder I proceeded to remove the hose and nozzle, screw the still present gas cap back on and close the door, all as cars whisked by. Now I was faced with another dilemma. What to do with the hose. I seriously contemplated heaving it over the bank but instead stored it in the trunk.

Visions of the chaos I had created back at the gas station loomed into view. Spilled gas, fire trucks, emergency evacuations, police cars dispatched to track me down……!! Dare I return? An illegal u-turn and 20 minutes later I pulled into a very calm and normal-appearing gas station. People were still pumping gas except at pump #4. There the dial was still where I left had it. Anyone could have continued pumping gas on my credit card, that is, if they had their own hose and nozzle.

Without removing my contraband, I cornered an attendant and as quietly as possible, admitted to my dastardly deed adding “I’ll pay for repairs.” “Not to worry’” she responded loudly, “it happens all the time. The break-away connections were installed for that very reason. Just bring back the pieces.”

One more sighting was documented as I removed the offending hose from my trunk but otherwise, I was scot-free. Personal humiliation was all that remained, I thought, until I opened the Stowe Reporter the following week. In the section called Seen Around the Mountain there was a full accounting of my antics. I suppose it could have been worse. With today’s technology I might have been The Best of You Tube!