Road Rage

Well, not really road rage, because I hadn't gotten on the road yet. That was the problem. I was in a hurry to make an appointment and almost out of gas. So, I stopped at the station, went inside, plopped down a $10 bill (I know, big spender) and said, "10 on 6 please." Just like that. Well, the clerk apparently did not hear the 6 part and put my money on pump 10. The man at pump 10 was already gassing up when the clerk came out to tell him what happened. Pump #10 was not happy. I heard him shout, "that's not my problem, it's your problem, Buddy." The clerk points to me, halfway across the lot, and says, "no, it's her fault." I swear I felt the hair stand up on my head at that point. "EXCUSE ME?" I say in my sweetest I'm-not-taking-any-crap voice. The clerk goes inside to get the receipts to show Pump #10, who eventually goes grumping into the building to pay $10 on my pump. Meanwhile, I'm standing out in the cold stressing over being late for my meeting. I see Pump #10 drive away, but still nothing is happening with my pump. Finally I go inside and ask the clerk and he says, "oh, it's working, try it again." When I get back to my pump, it spits out my measly $10 in gas and I'm finally on my way. Moral of the story: pay at the pump. Or ride a bike.