The Price of Gas
And I'm not talking about the price I used to pay in embarrassment when Parker would rip farts in public when she was a gassy newborn. I'm talking about Thursday, and the price of having a fuel pump explode all over me while filling up during lunch. It was $3. That's how long it took me to wrestle the angry spewing snake and turn off the pump as I wobbled in high heels in 95-degree weather on my lunch hour en route to visit Parker.
I don't know how it happened, all I know is that the pump exploded and I was pissed. I cancelled my visit to Parker's school and went home to clean up, but not before telling the gas station attendant that I was "about to burst into flames," thank you very much for the defective pump, He told me his bathroom was out of order so I had nowhere to clean up. Do you think it occurred to me to wield some power and mention that I work for the agency that regulates gas pumps? No, I thought about that hours later when I was back at my desk getting high on the gas fumes steaming out of my shoes.
I went home and rinsed out my skirt, but at my desk that afternoon the fumes were really getting to me. So I did what any smart woman would do and borrowed a scented CANDLE AND MATCHES to cover up the smell of being DOUSED IN GAS. I also called Joe to complain.
Me: My legs are burning! It stinks in here and I can't breathe.
Joe: Didn't you change clothes at home?
Me: No, I just rinsed my skirt out in the sink.
Joe: I would have changed clothes.
Me: Your lecturing me now is not doing me any good.
Joe: Don't you know gas isn't water soluble?
Me: (blank stare, then shaking phone in air) I'm no scientist - don't try to confuse me! For the love of God, just give me some sympathy.
I made it to 5 o'clock without any hallucinations or impromptu vanilla-scented office fires. And somehow I even managed to write a speech about single audits and government accounting, but I have no idea what I wrote.
I don't know how it happened, all I know is that the pump exploded and I was pissed. I cancelled my visit to Parker's school and went home to clean up, but not before telling the gas station attendant that I was "about to burst into flames," thank you very much for the defective pump, He told me his bathroom was out of order so I had nowhere to clean up. Do you think it occurred to me to wield some power and mention that I work for the agency that regulates gas pumps? No, I thought about that hours later when I was back at my desk getting high on the gas fumes steaming out of my shoes.
I went home and rinsed out my skirt, but at my desk that afternoon the fumes were really getting to me. So I did what any smart woman would do and borrowed a scented CANDLE AND MATCHES to cover up the smell of being DOUSED IN GAS. I also called Joe to complain.
Me: My legs are burning! It stinks in here and I can't breathe.
Joe: Didn't you change clothes at home?
Me: No, I just rinsed my skirt out in the sink.
Joe: I would have changed clothes.
Me: Your lecturing me now is not doing me any good.
Joe: Don't you know gas isn't water soluble?
Me: (blank stare, then shaking phone in air) I'm no scientist - don't try to confuse me! For the love of God, just give me some sympathy.
I made it to 5 o'clock without any hallucinations or impromptu vanilla-scented office fires. And somehow I even managed to write a speech about single audits and government accounting, but I have no idea what I wrote.
posted by Carrie at 8:53 AM
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