80th birthday,  gas station,  rednecks

A trip to the gas station

I went to Costco this morning to get gas.  As I was paying the man on the other side of the pump and I exchanged greetings and continued about our business.  Since I was driving the boat this morning, filling up took a little bit.  When I fill the Mini, even when it’s really low, it just sips the gas and then we’re out of there
–although I try not to get it down really low and Chief razzes me for it because he thinks I get panicky when (according to him) there is plenty of gas in the tank.  Getting gas for the Mini is like a race car pit stop–well, not that fast but it seems like it when I’m surrounded by such large vehicles.  It’s like the Mini has a quick shot of espresso and is on its way while all the cars and trucks are having big gulps and super big gulps.  At any rate, I’m standing there as the numbers on the money portion of the pump roll over and over (and over and over, since I have the boat) at a quick rate and I hear all sorts of squeaking and kind of bumping noises.  I turn around and all I can see is the little pickup truck next to me shaking–if I couldn’t see the bed of the truck I might think there was some funny business going on, if you know what I mean.  So I lean to look around the pump and the man next to me is leaning against his truck, making it shake from side to side as he agitates the pump in the gas tank…again, sounds and looks a little iffy.  I said to the guy, are you trying to wring every last drop out of it? (or something to that effect)  He laughed and told me he was because he had a long way to go.  I kind of figured he was driving a ways away because he had a “border patrol” cap on the dash, but that was just my guess.  Then he told me it was his 80th birthday and he was going to Tucson to see his grandsons, 15, 12 and 10–a wild bunch, but all honor students.  They are just like their mom, he proudly tells me.  He said, “I thought I was a redneck but my daughter was born and raised here and she coined the term redneck–and I’m from Kentucky.  Her sons are just like her.” 

What a funny encounter at the gas station.  He was a very nice man and I wished him a happy birthday and we were on our way.  I wish you, too, a happy day.

Give me a shoutout! 🤠

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