confessions of a...

gas station attendant.


I find myself becoming more and more blog-conscious, meaning when funny things happen at the store I'll jot them down on a note to remind myself to blog about them later. I just pulled a note out of my wallet that I left for myself to find and it's nothing short of a scribbled, mis-spelled, grammarless mess. I must've been busy because I tend to be a grammar nazi with neat & tidy writing.
Here's what it said:
I like living in a place where it's still socially acceptable to drive your tractor to the gas station to get fuel.
People pull up to the pump on all sorts of funky things like tractors, riding lawn mowers, Wisconsin State Trooper motorcycles, antique cars, snow mobiles, powered parachutes, and Can-Am Spyders.
My feelings towards these motor-powered units would definitely be less welcoming if it weren't for small town charm. The guy on the tractor is the owner of the Silver Spur Saloon (cheap drinks, crappy juke box). The State Trooper just finished some training and wants some chocolate and a soda. The guy on the mower has special needs and can't drive a car. A guy is teaching his son how to snow mobile. All the folks with antique cars like to show off their stuff. The guy in the powered parachute, well, who knows...that was just weird. And the guys on the Spyders always have other avid motorcyclists flock to them when they're fueling up. Folks walk in and tell me stories of their motor-powered movers and a emit of glow of pride and a few slices of ego. And this is alright.
I ask how the bar is doing, how long it took to rebuild, how training went, how that thing rides, how do you fly that thing, and if it's alright if I close up shop and come snow-mobiling with you.  I laugh to myself when kids spend more on a soda than they do filling up their moped. I laugh to myself when folks pay more to put gas in their boat then I do on monthly rent. I laugh to myself when moms driving Hummers tell their kids to put something back because it costs too much.

None of these feelings would be the same if it weren't for the small town charm. I never thought, after loving life in Chicago for upwards for 4 years, that I would embrace a sort of know everyone atmosphere.
Eels put it best:
Life is funny
not ha-ha funny
peculiar I guess

------------

Thanks. Have a great day!