Convenience at the Pump

I was at the gas station the other day.   I decided to just use my debit card and save the trip into the gas station building.   Why talk to someone if I don't have to, right?

So I slid my card into and out of the slot at lightening speed.  I do this because that little machine doesn't like me and we usually get into an argument every time I use it. 
"Can't read the card, dumbo."   So I slide it again. 
"Do it again, it wasn't fast enough."  So I do it again.  
"Now you did it too slow, dumb butt."  And so on. 
Going to the gas station is like going to the dentist.  You are paying someone to be mean to you.

But I digress.  I know that is unusual for me, but I also know you will forgive my transgression.  Whoops, I digressed again.

Um, oh yeah.  So I was standing at the pump, listening to my adjunct bank account click, click, clicking all my money into the tank.   Then I was done and turned my attention to fighting with getting the gas cap back on.   It is attached to the car by a short plastic cord thoughtfully placed there by the manufacturer for my convenience.  I inevitably manage to get this convenience tangled up every time.   It's the thought that counts, though, right? 

After cursing the thoughtful manufacturer, I finished fighting with the gas cap.  I looked at the display.  It said $35.62.  I like to stop at weird amounts just to bug my husband.  He is the type that stands next to the car, bracing his body against a horizontal-blowing snow so he can click--click his way to an even amount like $42, but then clicks 2 cents past and stands there swearing while he then tries to click his way to another even number.   

I seem to have digressed again.  So I was standing there with my debit card, my odd amount for gas and a successfully closed gas cap.   I looked at the display screen and it said, “Cashier has the receipt inside.”   The one thing I was trying to avoid.  

I thought, “Well that totally negates the convenience of Paying at the Pump, now doesn’t it?!”