Friday, March 15, 2024

Not Always Mechanically Inclined

 


Though I work in a church office, I actually have to do a lot of tech stuff. I run our computers and help everyone with their smart phones, maintain the website and social media sites. So I know my way around computers, but some other mechanical stuff I don't always handle well. Ask my husband about his wood chisels sometime. But my mechanical safety ability came into question several years ago, when I was standing at the gas pump trying to fill my new van with gasoline.

I have been filling my own gas tank for a very long time...like over 40 years so I know how to use the pump. In fact, one time, (before I was married) I was pumping gasoline in my little green Ford Maverick, and a young guy at a nearby gas pump walked over and said, "Hey you pump gasoline really good."  To this date it's the stupidest pick-up line I've ever received.

But my new van was being persnickety. First of all it didn't even have a locking gas cap on it. There was no button to push inside that pops open the lid. That should have been my first sign of trouble!I finally just pushed on the gas door and it opened. I stuck the nozzle in like usual and began pumping. But it kicked it back out at me. What was going on? I looked at the little cartoon directions on the gas door. All it showed me was how to fill one of those little red containers for lawn mowers. No help at all.

I pushed it back in and finally after several tries and kickbacks, it got going. I relaxed and set that little locking mechanism so I could let go of the pump handle.

Now, I've always set that locking mechanism when pumping gas and I know that when the tank is getting full it is supposed to automatically kick off and stop pumping.

Yeah, well this gas pump didn't know the rules because as the tank got full it began spewing out of the tank of my car and the pump handle didn't kick off. Luckily I was still standing close by and I grabbed the handle but it was still spewing up into the air and like a fountain cascaded all down my head and arms and legs!

Oh my God I'm going to die!! I had gasoline all in my hair on my brand new blouse and capris.

I looked around for help, but NOBODY came over to my rescue or to even say are you okay? I even looked back at the store to the cashier but they weren't looking in my direction at all. Totally scared and angry, I quickly put away the pump and grabbed those towels you clean your windows with.

I began wiping the gas off my face which I was sure was going to have acid burns on and off my bare arms and legs. Still nobody came. I debated whether I should walk into the store and announce I had just covered myself in gasoline but I was really afraid they would either report me to the police for a dangerous act or insist I wait for the fire department EMT's to hose me off.

So silly me I just got into my car and raced home.

I met my husband at the round-a-bout near our house and flagged him to follow me home. As soon as I got out of my car I began hyperventilating while telling him that I had just doused myself in gasoline.

My near hysteria wasn't catching because all he said was, "Well you're not smoking, you're okay!"

I'm not smoking? Like I was on fire?

"What?" I screamed wondering why he could be so calm. I knew my face was going to begin melting any moment from my gasoline facial

"I said, you're not smoking...you don't smoke cigarettes so you are fine. Go inside and take a shower and give me your clothes. I'll put them in the wash."

"Oh, okay," I finally understood I wasn't going up in flames. "But it got all over my hair and face, will it burn me?"

I stumbled into the house trying to pull off my sandals so I didn't track gas all over the kitchen floor.

"No, I don't think so, just wash it off good." He replied calmly.

"I don't understand what could have happened, I was just putting gas in and it kicked it out and spewed gas all over me..."

"I'm going to go wash your car."

"The car? It's me that needs to be washed."

"Yes, but gas isn't good for the paint on the car. So I'm going to go wash it while you take a shower."

I looked at him. If gasoline wasn't good for the paint on the car just what the hell good was it on my hair, skin and everything besides?? So still cussing about stupid new cars and even stupider gas pumps I got in the shower.

I survived with no injuries to my body and even my clothes came out okay after adding a lot of vinegar to the washer to get out the smell. But I am done with gassing up my new car. I love my van but it has taken me nine weeks to get over the fear of putting gas in it so my husband has had to do it since there aren't any full service gas stations any more. (really showing my 40 plus years now...)

But I am happy to announce that this morning on my way to work, I got the courage up to try it again. I had no choice, hearing the van shout that I needed to stop and get gas soon or I'd be walking was an incentive. So I stopped and gingerly pulled the pump out and placed it in the tank NOT latching the locking mechanism. I put in three gallons and was good to go. That will get me to the weekend when my husband can finish filling it.

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