In common with a former work colleague, I share a dislike of petrol stations. It's not that they don't provide a vital service; simply that I'd rather be somewhere other than idlling in a queue waiting for the car in front to inch forwards, before it gets to my turn to stand in the arctic wind tunnel that is an obligatory design feature of all forecourts, and fill up.
A local supermarket usually has cheaper fuel than elsewhere, something that hasn't escaped the notice of a large proportion of the local electorate. To buy fuel there means to feel smug that you've saved a few quid, at the expense of your temper which may have been frayed by the inordinately long time it has taken to get to the pump.
People watching has become my sanity-restoring saviour. Protected by the glass windows of their vehicles, drivers and passengers alike imagine themselves invisible and that open windows allow no noise to drift from the cars. Texts are sent and received, loud 'phone calls detailing either the entire itinerary for the recipient's day, the importance of a delivery being made on time, or telling so and so to go and 'fxxx' themselves are commonplace. Noses are picked, tissues discarded out of the window, nappies changed whilst the driver fills up, (I kid you not - seen this and probably done it!); pockets patted as someone panics that they haven't got money to pay, and levels of impatience displayed by some, whilst others use the waiting time to kiss and make up with their beloved in the adjacent seat.
For those who have waited a while, is there anything more exasperating than the entire family from the car in front disembarking from their vehicle, entering the petrol station to choose their snacks, dithering whilst they're in there, disappearing off to the loo and then re-emerging five minutes later; by which time you've had a sense of humour failure and try not to explode as they carefully insert the kiddy winks into their car seats, distribute the aforementioned snacks, check their seatbelts and then move slowly off? Park around the corner for goodness sake!
I've been gazumped (or queue-jumped) whilst waiting before. Failing to engage first gear within a nano second of the car in front moving off, an impatient driver behind has simply overtaken with suitable amount of revs, screeched into place in front of the pump and proceeded to fill up without a backward glance at yours truly. I'm quite happy to get out and shout when I'm really cross, but this man was about a foot taller and three wider than me and I wasn't sure what my exit strategy might be! He left the garage at speed and was clearly more important than anyone else there.
Thick or thin, tall or small, spotty or dotty, in hot-pants or hot leathers, with bull-bars or 'back-off' stickers, in Daimlers or Daihatsus and with a smile or a snarl, there's all manner of humanity to watch! I do have one suggestion though - could they bring back forecourt assistants?
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