So this past Friday morning was rather eventful and since I’m always willing to share my day to day not so smart moments lets relive it together shall we?
My morning was off to a semi-normal start for a Friday. Mr. Arkansas had woke me about 4:45 with a kiss to say goodbye. By 5:30ish I gave up on rolling around in the bed any longer, got out of bed and promply made myself a cup of tea.
Seek Peace was its name it sounded fitting and I thought maybe I’d be able to make it through my crazy busy work day without the need of xanax if I was “at peace” but not at peace like being dead that’s just creepy. Anyway with my cup of tea in my handy holder in the Taurus I set off to work.
Then I hear it that awful dinging sound that can only mean ONE thing – I need gas. We all know my gas station fears but I put on my brave face and entered the station.
After attaching the gas handle to my car, I felt this awful sticky substance on my hands, FREAKING GROSS. What nasty ass person was eating sticky shit while pumping gas? Ick, Ick, and Ick. I quickly I walked around to my door and pulled out a wet wipe to wipe the nasty off my paws. Then off my door handle and everything else I touched.
This is where things get dicey.
I decided to use the wet wipe as a barrier between myself and the gross gas handle… but I forgot to unhook said handle from its “stay ON” position. So when I pulled the handle from my car it was still gladly flowing $4.00 a gallon gas all over.
Of course I had to spin for a second like a jackass because I was SOOO Surprised and honestly didn’t know what the hell to do for a split second. One leg of my jeans was covered in gas, and I was jumping around in the puddle trying to figure out how to get it to stop.
Thankfully the station I stopped at is only a few blocks from my house. So I made a u-turn drove back to our house shivering with the windows down to help with the fumes and changed jeans. I'm pretty sure I was high off fumes when I changed because I didn't think twice about my shoes.
(the red represents the stinky smell and indeed is not actually on my floor)
Every time someone walked into my office I could see their nostrils flare a little. Some have even done the double sniff. Since they seem curious its at this point I just smile and tell them I had a run in at the gas station this morning. So far no one has asked for further details – so either my shenanigans are no longer surprising or they are working on an intervention I guess I'll find out sooner or later.
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