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I don't like the fuel in my car to go down below a certain level. I'm always afraid I'll run out, though I never have, even when I drove a car a few years ago which had a broken gauge. Conversely though, for someone who likes to keep diesel in the tank, I also hate having to go fill up.
You see, I'm old enough to remember a time when you pulled into a service station for diesel or petrol and there was a person there to pump it for you. That person also took your money and sent you on your merry way.
Now I'm not diva-ish to the extent that I want someone to fill the tank for me. It's just that since shops became attached to service stations its turned into a far lengthier, and, in my case, a much greater patience-testing exercise. Especially for someone like me who wasn't blessed with an over abundance of patience in the first place.
I stopped in earlier this week at a service station I often use on my way home from work. On one side, the side that would have suited me best because of my fuel tank's location, a man had parked squarely between the two sets of pumps. He headed into the shop, leaving it impossible to get near either one.
I pulled up on the far side and hauled the hose around, over the back of the car to reach. Pumping complete, I raced into the shop to pay, conscious of the fact there was a van and a car queued behind me. I came out of the shop only to find that a customer who wasn't buying petrol had come in and parked halfways across my car, blocking my exit. I was stuck.
The exasperated van driver behind me thought otherwise and it's true that it was possible, space-wise to reverse out past him but then he hasn't seen me try to reverse. Few people have. That's because I'm crap at it.
During my driving test in Canada many years ago, I did fine until the last task, back at the centre. I had to reverse into a space for the tester. The space had three flags on poles, placed at a height that could be clearly seen and therefore used as markers. I knocked all three down.
Once or twice since I've attempted the reverse manoeuvre but only when there's nobody around and the available space is big enough to fit two articulated trucks. They say that women aren't as good as men at reverse parking because they have different spatial awareness. I've no doubt many women, who are fine reverse parkers, would take umbrage at that assertion. Alas sisters, I cannot help the cause. I am their perfect example.
So, van man fumed and I fumed until yer man came out of the shop, got into his car and drove away, blissfully unaware of the annoyance he had caused. At least he drove away though. In the summer, I had to sound my horn (which I did, lets say, ahem, forcefully) at a woman who came out of a service station shop with an ice cream cone and sat licking it while I waited for her to get out of my way.
Another time, also in summer, I sat behind a car waiting for it to move off after the woman had filled up, only to see her open the car boot, take out a bowl, fill it from a newly purchased bottle of water and then place it on the ground and open the door for her Scots terrier to get out and take a drink.
It took more self control than I thought I had not to shunt her, her little dog and her car a half mile up the road. I didn't say a word to her. I figured any rant would be lost on someone so obviously lacking in awareness, manners and common sense. Besides I didn't trust myself that it wouldn't turn into something like out of that Michael Douglas film 'Falling Down'.
These days you pull into a garage forecourt and there's a very good chance you'll have a wait on your hands as those in front of you at the pumps go into the shop to pay and buy various goods while they're at it. The very idea of attaching shops to service stations was, of course, to get us to spend more money with them.
Nowadays, they sell everything from groceries to wine, magazines and newspapers to coal and kindling, cleaning stuffs and baked goods. It's the ubiquitous hot food counters though that cause the biggest delay for other motorists queuing up outside to fill their tanks while they're inside thinking of filling their bellies.
Don't get me wrong. I use these shops too. I find them very handy. But where possible, I pull over to one side out of the way of the pumps after filling up and before going inside to pay. I've often wondered why service station owners don't encourage more people to do that. It'd make a lot more sense surely, as it'd turn customers over quicker?
I've often passed by service stations I'd been planning to stop at because of the queues, usually caused by those that have already got their fuel, inside stocking up on sweets and snacks, breakfast rolls and all manner of other stuff. Why not a special hatch for those who are only paying for fuel?
A further test of my limited patience is when I put the nozzle in the tank and then have to wait for the person inside to throw the switch to activate the pump. I stand there, staring balefully in the direction of the shop, willing someone to turn it on. This is time I won't get back folks.
There's usually a further challenge before I head off and that's from those that can't or won't observe the entry and exit protocol. How hard is it to go in the 'in' way and out the 'out' way? Well, it's beyond the comprehension of some, it seems.
All of these irritations conspire to make me fill up as little as possible. Because of my phobia about running out of fuel, I fill the tank to the brim each time. Sitting back into the driver's seat after refuelling, I'm always filled with a sense of gratitude that it's a process I won't have to endure again for several days.
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