for some it's an iddy-biddy widdle spider but when you're scared of them suddenly that iddy-biddy widdle spider is HUMONGOUS and has sixteen legs and twelve eyeballs all starring back at you, taunting you, what are you gonna do? you gonna smack me? i dare you! you either one, smack it over the head with whatever you have on hand or is near by, or two scream for help at the top of your lungs. for me, it's the latter. but that's not my biggest fear.
i'll give you a hint. i need it more frequently now than i ever did before. it usually lasts me a week before i need more. the thought of having to go get some terrifies me. have you guessed yet? that's right, i'm terrified of pumping my own gas. not what you were expecting i'm sure but here's the thing. i get all wigged out when i have to drive up to the gas pump. for one, i can never remember what side my hole is on and feel completely sheepish having to pull out and back in...again...i'm more likely to just pull out and drive to the next pump...at least these people won't have seen my foolishness. granted i'm not the only one who has done this before but when the other pumps are occupied it suddenly feels like everyone is looking and laughing. for two, a lot of the pumps here in BC are prepay only. when we first moved out here i tried to pump my own gas and swore all the pumps were broken when nothing came out. imagine my delight when over the intercom a voice tells me i have to prepay. now the guy next to me is busting his gut in fits of laughter all the while shaking his head thinking that one word...foreigner.
Gawd! i slide my visa through the slot and hover over the numbers while trying to enter my pin number hoping nobody notices, i pull the pump out and proceed to insert it into my car and still nothing comes out. i'm such an idiot, i forget to choose my brand. regular, always regular because it's cheaper and let's face it i'm not a millionaire. finally, i can feel the gas coming out of the nozzle. it takes forever and i swear as i watch it count up to the amount i want it goes slower and slower. suddenly it spits the nozzle button out. what the heck? i wanted sixty bucks worth dang it. push the button back in...fifty five...fifty six...button back out. you will fill up to my sixty bucks worth or else!! at this point i wipe sweat off my brow. three people have come and gone by now. the guy over the intercom must think i'm a complete moron but i don't care. i've come this far. i force down the button and squeeze my sixty bucks worth of gas out of the nozzle and it's finally over. but wait. now i have to put my gas cap back on, how many times do i turn it? three, four? i don't want the blasted thing to fall off on the way home. what does everyone else do? i glance around and decide to crank it as much as it will go. i hop in the car and pull away. i've done it. i've survived another trip to Husky and as happy as that makes me i'm also filled with dread because i know, next week i'll have to do it all over again. sigh!
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