First of all I would like to pose a question. Would Doctor Who have lasted 50 years if instead of the Doctor he was something mundane. “Who are you?” “I’m… the receptionist.” I don’t think it would have.
The other day I drove from Spokane, Washington to Salt Lake City, Utah. It’s normally a 12 hour drive but I’m reckless and a dragon slayer (those things are generally mutually exclusive) so I made the trip in 10 hours instead. Toward the end of my day (lets say hour 7) I had to stop for gas. It was snowing, I was grumpy and cold, and I had been driving for a long time (definitely the unhappy part of my blogging experience). So I pulled into the Exxon and did my best to set up to buy gas as quickly as possible. I put the pump in my gas tank and selected my grade of fuel and then an exasperated voice came over the intercom.
“Would the young lady at pump 3 please select their form of payment before continuing to mess with the pump.”
I never select my form of payment before selecting my grade and setting up because there have been occasions when gas stations have then forced me to buy premium instead of what I want. Don’t come between me and doing things my way.
Now you should also know that when I travel alone I also travel armed. On this particular drive I had my brothers incredibly large and illegal to carry in downtown Seattle pocket knife in my back pocket. Well I was real irritated and just looking for a little sympathy so I pulled Jamie’s and flipped the blade open above my head (keep in mind I was in Montana and everyone is armed there, even my florist.) the intercom came back on.
So I, once again, proved that people treat you better when they believe you are armed (someday I will tell the registered gun owner story but not this day). Of course, then I had to drive to the nearest rest stop to use the bathroom rather than just going inside.