Innocuous little incidents can often remind us of some of life’s most important truisms. A recent trip to the gas station reminded me of two significant things. One was the importance of being nice to everyone. The other, and perhaps the more important of the two lessons, is to not take myself so seriously.
One weekday evening not long ago my wife informed me that we needed a gallon of milk. I was given two choices: drive to the store to get some, or stay home and put three tired children in their pajamas, supervise the brushing of their teeth, read them stories, tuck them into bed, and then lurk outside their door for fifteen additional minutes to make sure that no after-bedtime disputes arose.
I sprinted across the room to grab the car keys before she reconsidered. As I ran out the door I told her I’d put some gas in the car while I was out, since the fuel gauge on our Honda Civic Hybrid indicated that it was running on fumes.
My wife and I have another 28 years worth of mortgage payments to make, and as a consequence we no longer take yearly vacations, eat at fancy restaurants, or fill the gas tank to the top. Every once in a while though, one of us gets a little crazy, as I did on the night I narrowly escaped bedtime duty. I decided to purchase 20 dollars worth of petroleum. However, when I approached the tiny booth at the gas station in order to prepay, the lone attendant was nowhere to be seen. Another man about my age was waiting outside, and from his miffed look I gathered that he had been lingering for a longer period of time than he deemed appropriate. A moment later a young man sauntered over from behind an adjoining building. He was just finishing a cigarette, and his body language suggested that he was not particularly enthralled with life in general or his job in particular. The other customer and I nodded wordlessly at one another, rolling our eyes skyward and exchanging looks which implied that today’s youth isn’t made of the same stuff we were at a similar age.
Since he had been there before me I let the other man pay the cashier first. Then when it was my turn I cheerfully told the sullen attendant that I’d like 20 dollars worth of gas, handing him a picture of Andrew Jackson as I spoke.
Assuming the pump was preset for $20, I stuck the nozzle in my gas tank, then grabbed a squeegee and began cleaning my windshield. A moment later I was alarmed when I looked up and saw that the pump, which usually slows once it hits the $19 mark after a $20 prepayment, was showing no sign of stopping! Racing as quickly as I could I was able to shut it off, but not before the dial on its face read 21.02.
I went into my car’s glove compartment and fished out four quarters and two pennies, all the while struggling to retain my good nature as I prepared to tell the world’s least motivated gas station employee about his mistake that had cost me a dollar and two cents.
“Excuse me,” I said in a tone as upbeat as I could manage. “I asked for $20.00 worth of gas, but the pump kept running. Here’s the extra $1.02.”
There was an awkward silence as the attendant reluctantly got up from his chair and walked outside. I felt proud of myself for being so understanding of his error. “Sir?” he began, as I readied myself to magnanimously accept his apology. “Sir, you’ve still got more gas to pump. You’re looking at the wrong dial. You’ve pumped 2.102 gallons so far; the number above that is the dollar figure.”
There was another awkward silence. The young man smiled at me in the same manner that I had smiled at him just seconds earlier. The only difference was that behind his smile he was thinking “Boy, what a stupid old man,” whereas the thought behind mine had been, “Boy, what a lazy kid!”
After I had finished putting the remainder of the gas I had purchased into my tank I went back to thank the attendant for his understanding. I couldn’t resist asking him if I were the dumbest guy he had dealt with that day. His hesitation and my smile told us both all that we needed to know.
Andy YoungReturn to main page
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