Friday, April 15, 2011

Jack gets Gas

This week:

Who:  Jeffrey Kavanaugh

What:  credit card, handbag, vanity, run

Where:  a gas station

First line:  In the end, it didn't matter.

In the end, it didn't matter.

I pulled up to the gas station because my little light that tells me what to do, lit up reminding me of my need to fill the car up with gas. I think it's a remarkable little light and there are several more inside that tell me things like which direction to turn, if my door is left open or even if I don't have my seat belt on. Pretty amazing stuff.

So after I place the car in park and turn off the engine, because there is a sign that says that as well, although there are no lights attached to this one. I wonder if you can still read it after the sun goes down, and if you cannot read the sign, does that mean you do not need to turn off your engine? I had never thought of that until now, I wonder why?

I make a mental note to come by after dark some evening to see for myself. I can just see all of the cars running while having gas pumped into them. 

I grab my credit card out of my wallet and proceed to place it into the slot that says place card here, again no lights and again I am left to wonder about how anything gets done at night around this place without lights that tell you what to do. 

Behind me a young lady pulls up to fill her car with gas and I wonder if her car has those very informative lights as well, and decide that I must investigate. As I run towards the young lady, she starts to hug her handbag - I don't know why she does this, is she really attached to the handbag, is it a sense of vanity, or maybe she doesn't even realize that she is doing it.

"Get back, or I'll call the police," she exclaims as I slow down to ask her my question.

"Why would you call the police?" I ask, although that was not my original question, that was in regards to the lights in her car, if she even has any.

"You want to steal my handbag and take advantage of my innocence." She says.

"I would do no such thing, madam, I just ran over here to ask you a question before my gas stopped pumping into my car." I try to explain.

"Oh, I apologize, I thought you might be one of those hooligans I have been reading about in the news."

"What? I would do no such thing." 

I act offended enough that she says.

"I'm sorry."

"It is okay madam, I was just coming over to inquire about the lights in your car, or rather, if you have lights in your car that tell you when to get gas."

"Um, yes I do have lights, but I don't always wait until they light up to get gas."

Needless to say I am shocked by this pronouncement and I turn to leave.

"What is your name, may I ask? You seem familiar to me."

"You may ask, my name is Jack Kavanaugh."

"Nice to meet you Jack, my name is Babs. Do you perchance have a light?"

"Yes I do, several of them in my car."

"No, silly man, I mean a light for my cigarette."

"Oh that, I sure do. Here, let me light that for you."

In the end, it didn't matter.