This morning I discovered there is no such thing as gas station etiquette. I stop at the same Exxon/Dunkin Donuts combo station every morning for the essentials–coffee and a bagel. (I won’t buy gas or cigarettes there; that Exxon is way too expensive.) There is this little “island” in the front of the pumps that I usually park next to, because I hate when people who aren’t getting gas take up a pump spot so I try not to do it myself. This morning I almost went for a pump spot, thinking that I might end up getting out of there faster because there was someone else parked in the other “island” spot in front of where I wanted to park. Of course my pump-hog-hating conscious got to me and I parked in my usual “island” spot, then headed into the Dunkin Donuts for my necessaries.

Inside of the store, two blond girls with straight and shower wet hair were flirting with the guy behind the counter. Yeah, I won’t lie, he is good looking, but they were giggling like twelve year olds, and I have a feeling they were probably eighteen or maybe seventeen. I stared at their hair, thinking how awesome it must be to have been born with straight hair that can get wet and won’t unleash itself with a vengeance in the humidity. (If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’ve got viciously curly hair.)

Bag and coffee in hand, I went back outside. “In my next life, I want straight hair, dammit,” I thought to myself. “And look, that guy is gone so I can get out.” Just as giddy as the girls with the straight hair, I opened my car door and my jaw dropped as some guy pulled in front of me from the exit side of the gas station.

I used some choice words, but of course the dude couldn’t hear me. “I could kill you,” I told him through my windshield. Another car was to my right, in the pump spot where I had originally wanted to park. I had two choices: I could sit and wait for someone to come back out and move, or I could attempt to back out and leave through the entrance. Of course, that would involve other drivers being nice enough to not use the entrance. Which was so not happening.

After trying fruitlessly to back out, I saw the pump spot guy come out of DD and sighed in relief. He would move and I wouldn’t be late for work after all! I lit a cigarette and waited. Waited. And waited. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The ass who had blocked me in came out and put his stupid car into reverse. Like the awesome, patient and forgiving person I am, I cut him off and left the gas station before he did. HA. So there.