Doing (Gas) Lines

If the woman who cut in front of me in line at the gas station hadn't done so right after my encounter with the selfish jerk who had finished pumping his gas but didn't move his car, I probably wouldn't have been so amped up about it. On the other hand, maybe her actions and attitude would have been enough. Suffice it to say that the people at the other 15 pumps were likely relieved that I was an old white woman pitching a fit rather than one of the ever-increasing gangstas moving into our town.


The attitude with the first guy was typical of that I-am-the-center-of-the-universe (IATCOTU) one I encounter when watching the traffic circle at Youngest's elementary school when it's raining. [Yeah, I get off on standing in the rain just to marvel at the actions.] There's a long line, and it takes a long time to finally make your way to the circle to pick up your now-drenched kid. Rather than pull all the way into the circle, get said kid in and get the hell out, the IATCOTU drivers will stop as soon as they see their precious offspring, stopping the extremely long line of cars behind them from entering the circle, thus delaying the whole damn process. Because they're special, right? And they apparently have no recall of the 12 minutes they've just spent in line and how frustrating it was to watch similarly-minded IATCOTU drivers do the same damn thing. Because they're special.


That was the attitude of the first guy I encountered, who had the fuckin' gall to hold his pointer finger up to me in a "one-minute-can't-you-see-I'm-talking-on-the-phone" gesture. Yes, that would be talking on the phone after having pumped his gas and not moved his car. At all. In recognition of the serfs behind him in line waiting for His Majesty to move.

Okay, there weren't that many cars in line, but still, there WAS a line.

The woman in the Volvo though, the one who cut around up another lane and then backed into the opening, breaking all protocol for line waiting? I made the leap of faith that she just didn't realize all those other people IN LINE were actually IN LINE. So I got out of my car, went up to her car and said, "I'm sorry, but there's a line. And I'm next."


To which she nodded, but proceeded to turn off her ignition, gather up her purse, and get out of her car. To which I said, more emphatically, "Excuse me, it's not your turn."


To which she said, "I'll only be a minute."


To which I said, "Are you kidding me? Move your car."


To which she chose not to respond except to lock her car and walk into the mini-mart.


To which I look around to all the onlookers and say, "Are you kidding me?" Onlookers are shaking their heads, which I take as a sign of support that they agree that she is one rude fuckin' bitch as opposed to a sign that they think I am one fuckin' wingnut.


And then I notice I am blocking a car in the aisle so I have no choice but to move my Jeep so she can get by me because I AM A CONSIDERATE PERSON.


I am going to just drive away because I am beyond pissed. But a space on another aisle has opened up and the line has dissipated for that aisle, so I pull in, and I start the process of paying a fortune because of EVIL OIL COMPANIES MAKING PROFITS ON THE BACKS OF HARD-WORKING AMERICANS UNLIKE THAT VOLVO-DRIVING BITCH WHO PROBABLY OWNS MUCH STOCK IN CHEVRON, and I glare across the aisles at that bitch's Volvo.


And I say to myself, "I'm tired of always just thinking what a bitch someone is when they do something like this. When she comes out of that store, I'm going up to her and say, 'You're a bitch.' That will really make me feel good."


So she comes out of the store and walks over to her Volvo and she goes up to the gas pump to start the process, and I march across the aisles to have my say.


And she sees me, scurries to her car, starts the ignition and drives away before I get close.


Bitch.