I’m Going to Need Your Help With This One, Folks

Some good news:  So far I haven’t been ripped-off by the highly-questionable convenience store I wrote about yesterday.  When I first got there I tried to buy gas from a pump that wouldn’t work.  But when I went inside to talk with Mr. Helpful, he said the pump was on, and ready to go.  We couldn’t get it to work, though, and he eventually told me to use the other side.

And I was convinced that he pulled his K Car with one blue door up to the first side of the pump and filled his tank — the moment I left.  I just KNEW there would be two charges to my bank card, but there was only one.  So… I don’t want to jinx myself, but I think that whole horrible ordeal has turned out to be a bullet-dodged.  Never again!

A few of you suggested I download the GasBuddy app to my phone, and I did.  Last night I checked it, and that shitty dump is the second closest gas station to my job.  And someone told me the closest place closes at 11, so I guess I was led to the right spot.  I will make sure my heft never again darkens the door of that weird little homicide, scratch-offs, and coffee emporium.  I haven’t felt so vulnerable since I left Atlanta.  Shit.

Wednesdays are tough on me, because I have to be at work an hour early for a meeting.  So, this is going to have to do for now.  And I’m going to have to rely on you guys to rescue me…

In the comments section, please tell us your stories about running out of gas.  I used to do it a lot when I was in my 20s, but my nerves can’t handle it anymore.  Do you have any good runnin’ on empty tales?  Please bring us up to date.

Also, have you ever discovered any dodgy charges on your credit card account, or bank card, or whatever?

A few years ago I went to the local Waffle House and paid with my bank card, and it was charged two or three additional times — for various small amounts — over the next week.  I think one of the employees was paying for meals with it — for them or a friend.  I started raising hell and threatening to call the cops, and it suddenly stopped happening.  Bastards.

So, there ya go.  This is slightly better than no update, right?  …Hello?

I’ll be back tomorrow.  I’m off on Thursday, so there should be no disgraceful half-assery.

See ya then!

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  • The Way My Day Ended, and the Way My Day Started

    So, my alarm was set for 9:30 this morning, as usual, and I hoisted myself off the platform at… 12:10.  What the hell, man??  I can’t even remember hitting the snooze button, but the alarm was definitely set when I regained consciousness.  Grrr…

    Reciting a litany of curse words, and shuffling toward the bathroom, I realized I needed to take a seat in there.  It felt like I was about to pass a head of lettuce, or something of that approximate size and weight.  Yeah, and it turned out to be more along the lines of a head of cabbage — much less forgiving than lettuce.

    While I was atop the throne, I heard Toney come in.  She was checking on me, because she’d sent four or five texts and called twice, and I hadn’t answered.

    “Are you just now getting up?” she hollered up the steps and through the shitter door.

    “Yeah.  I’ll be down in a second… unh.”

    “I thought you’d had a heart attack, and didn’t want the boys to find you,” she answered.

    Fully-dilated, I sat and contemplated that statement.  She didn’t want the boys to find me, but didn’t seem too upset beyond that.  Then I imagined her thinking the following:

    “It wouldn’t be ideal if he died in his sleep, but it sure would take care of our financial worries.  He’s insured out the ass…”

    That statement happened inside my head, and not in reality, but it still irritated me.  And when I went downstairs I said, in a sarcastic tone, “Sorry, I didn’t die.  I apologize for still breathing ‘n’ shit.”

    And Toney just looked at me in confusion.

    That’s how my day started, just a few minutes ago.  And I can’t believe I actually began this update with the word “so.”  What’s happening to me??  I hate when people start sentences with “so.”

    Anyway, this day started bad, and yesterday ended kinda bad, as well.  Well, it could’ve been worse, but it was high stress.

    I drove to work, and when I pulled into the parking lot I realized my gas light was on.  I hadn’t even noticed it, while driving.  My mind was racing during yesterday’s commute, and I’d been on auto-pilot, fully and completely.

    I work in the middle of nowhere, and there are no gas stations nearby.  I knew about one, maybe two miles away, and told myself I’d go there on my break and buy $25 worth of fuel — and avoid that 1:30 white-knuckle ride to Wilkes-Barre, hoping the engine doesn’t sputter and stop.

    But I completely forgot about it, and when I got in my car at 1:45, that gas pump light was shinin’ bright.  Dammit!  I watched the needle, and it was even with the E line, which wasn’t good.  If it had been slightly above it, I would have felt confident making the Wilkes-Barre run.

    I decided to go out of my way, to that station a couple of miles down the road.  And when I got there… it was all dark and closed-up.  Fantastic.  Now the needle seemed to be slightly BELOW the E line.  And I had no idea where an open gas station might be.  It was now almost 2:00 a.m.

    I was stressing, and starting to panic.  I returned to my job, and there were a few people standing in the parking lot shooting the shit.  I asked if they knew of an open gas station, and they started in with all the complicated local talk:

    “You know where Prolapse Road crosses the Harold Hecuba Highway, over near the old salad factory?”

    What?!  No, I don’t, and can’t really afford to be driving around looking for things.  And, thankfully, a woman told me to follow her, and she’d lead me to an open gas station, just “four minutes” from there.

    We made roughly two dozen turns, and were in some neighborhood I’d never seen.  I have no idea what town we were in, but it wasn’t good.  It screamed “death by misadventure.”  And the entire time I was convinced my engine was about to say fukkit.

    We finally pulled into a shitty dump of a convenience store.  But it appeared to sell gas, and also be open for business.  Whew!

    Then the pump wouldn’t work.  The display window was totally black, and I couldn’t get it to do anything.  I went inside and the dude was not an ally.  He clearly hated me on first sight, and accused me of doing something wrong.  It wasn’t the pump’s fault, it was something I’d done.

    While we stood there discussing it, another customer came through the door, and the cashier greeted him warmly.  What the?

    Finally, I was told to pull my car around, and use the other side of the pump.  So, I went outside and started to do as I was told.  And while I was maneuvering, two guys in a white Z28 backed — at a high rate of speed — across the parking lot, and stopped in front of the pump.  Then they went inside and bought chips and stuff.

    Both were dressed like Eminem, circa 2000, and were just DARING me to say something to them.  I sat there blinking real fast, my blood pressure going up and down, up and down.  They’d blocked the only gas pump, on purpose, and gone into the store.  What kind of town is this??

    Eventually they returned with their snacks, sneered at me, and drove away.  And I was able to buy gas, and get the hell out of that shithole.  Good god.

    And this is another 20 minute special.  Hopefully it’s not too horrible.  I’ll be back tomorrow, I hope, with something a little more normal.

    See ya then!

    Now playing in the bunker
    Treat yourself at Amazon: US and Canada

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