Getting Hosed At The Pump!

Pumping gas is one of life’s mundane chores.  It’s simple, it’s singularly focused and I enjoy the fact that I am alone in my thoughts when doing it.  It’s kind of like peeing into a urinal.  One doesn’t expect (or appreciate) being besieged by outside stimuli during such times of personal solitude.

So you can imagine how my octane spiked (after swiping my card at the local Exxon recently) and being ambushed by “Gas Station TV”.  THAT’S RIGHT...unexpectedly smacked in the face and ears by capitalistic, opportunistic, corporate America blasting through a 5-inch screen and cheap, tiny speakers emitting frequencies that made the fillings in my teeth hurt.

WHAT THE SHELL???

I’m sorry, but I don’t need to discover that it’s dumplin day at Cracker Barrel whilst I’m huffing 89 ethanol.  Neither do I need to see that My Pillow guy EVER again or get the local weather. I’m IN the weather for crying out loud - fueling up Bessie in order to get to work to support my overt happiness.

Is there no Safeway to Pilot a Kwik Trip to the Gulf without getting my BP up?  Can’t one Kum & Go as we please without some ESSO pumping ads in our face at the Petro?   It’s time to Circle K the wagons folks and put a stop to this before we’re running on empty.  We must Mobil-ize now, LOVE each other and boycott GSTV.  Otherwise, our society will continue getting hosed at the pump!

Curmudgeon Out!
"Things are not as bad as they seem...they're worse" - Bill Press

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