Tonight on my way home from work, I stopped at this new gas station I've been wanting to go to; it's on the way to the freeway, which I don't normally take, but I thought I'd try it out. I noticed it the morning of my minor traffic accident, remember? This particular gas station chain (yeah? gas stations are chains just like IHOP, right?) has somewhat cheaper prices than the others, and they don't charge you a fee to use your ATM card (sneaky!). However, I did have cash on me for a change, so going to this station wasn't absolutely necessary, but whatever: I was feeling a little adventurous.
OK.
So I pull into this gas station, situated on a corner, like most gas stations. There were only a few cars parked at the pumps, so I was glad it wasn't crowded, but then I realized that the pumps that were available were on the wrong side (my gas tank thing is on the left side of my car). So I pulled around the little gas station house and tried my luck on the other side.
Finally the woman in at that pump finished (took her FOREVER! Plus, she decided she needed to get a towel or something [diaper? underwear?] out of her trunk to clean off her hands, and man! I thought my trunk had a lot of crap in it! This woman had like six whole laundry bags of clothes crammed in there. It was a nice car, too, and I just didn't get it), and drove away. I noticed that she had been parked really close to the pump, so I took care to give myself plenty of room (and I took care to "pull to the forward pump" as instructed - why doesn't everyone do that! It's a courtesy, you assholes!), and went to pay for my gas.
When I came back out, I started gassing up my car, and I'm just standing there, minding my own business, when out of nowhere, this big white Toyota 4-Runner pulls by me on the right side of my car, ON THE SIDEWALK, practically hitting my car and the bus bench, and screeches to a stop at the other pump, behind me.
Out jumps this little Asian man, with a crazy half-pompadour, half-apeman hairdo - he was wearing lavender parachute pants the likes I have not seen since Joaquin Brown in the 7th grade (hey, Joaquin was cool) - and if looks could kill, that guy would be in jail, because my ass would be lying there, dead.
I stared right back at him and said, "Hey, man: nice pants."
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