Every once in awhile I can’t wait until I have my poor unsuspecting husband in the car, and I have to pump my own gas.
Today was one of those days. If I had tried to make it until I had him in the car with me, we would have never made it home. As it was I barely made it home last night, but was too tired to stop at a gas station on my way home.
Anyway, I’m at the gas station and I was just starting to pump the gas when a song came on over the gas station sound system (God forbid people have to pump their gas in silence). It was a song that I knew, and while I didn’t love the song, sadly I knew the words (Ok, it was Jennifer Lopez’s Waiting for Tonight). I knew the words because I am a radio station flipper and occassionaly happend across this song on my quests and in all honesty, the song isn’t that difficult to learn the words to.
So because I was in a good mood and the weather was gorgeous, I started singing and doing a little dance. Out in public. At a busy gas station. I think I should mention that I may not have been singing too quietly.
At one point I turned around to see what the damage was at and noticed that the guy on the other side of the pump I was using was staring at me. I did my best imitation of a person who was not mentally unbalanced and finished up my gas pumping duties.
When I finished, I peeked over at his side and smiled and told him to have a nice day. He continued to look at me like I may be insane, but gave me a little nod. I like to think that I gave him something to smile about for the rest of the day.
On the plus side, when I was on my way to pick my husband up from work a car full of teenage boys whistled at me, and one of my husbands co-workers (and my sister in laws boyfriend) told my husband that I’m looking “hot” lately.
Yeah, it was a good day.
Dang-sha-bang. Now that is a good day. That helps make up for a day with a right-of-way-disregarder or a toy flung on the balcony
What right-of-way disregarder? What toys on the balcony?
Yep, I’d take one of those days. Sounds fun!
Me, when you say “gas station” I immediately get pissed off. Yesterday I was running low when I took my son to school, but being that I’m normally lucky to drop him off and only get to work 5 minutes late, I decided that I’d get gas on the way home. Good move: gas prices all over town went up $0.30/gal during the day, since the schools start spring break on Friday and lots of people will be driving out of town. Bastards.
Still, if I’m bopping at the gas pumps, it’s probably because I’m still grooving from whatever heavy stuff I was listening to in the car. The shaved-head dude with the long beard DEFINITELY gets the “OMG, Alice, get the kids back in the car!” look.
For the most part I bop around to my own beat, and usually doing an air guitar rendition of something that I had just been listening to on my iPod (radio is crap and they never play the stuff I really enjoy anyway) but this one time that I was dancing around to something I would never usually listen to is the time I get busted. I usually catch the eye of the other public “freak” while out in public and we tend to meet eyes and do a little nod that conveys that neither of us would normally be caught dead listening to the crap on the public speakers.
Lucky hubby.