Monthly Archives: August 2019

Drive Off

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It was Saturday afternoon and life at the fuel center was humming along. We were fairly busy, but I had things under control.

I’d left the kiosk to condition the merchandise in the outdoor display cases. “Conditioning” means making sure the shelves are stocked and all items are pulled to the front with the brand name facing forward. The fuel center sells mostly cold drinks and a small selection of snacks along with motor oil, fuel additives, windshield washer fluid, and coolant. It didn’t take long to get everything looking good.

While I was outside, a woman approached me with a question about using her credit card. While trying to answer her question, I heard shouting, honking, and whistling. I looked toward the source of the commotion and saw a small white car trailing a gas pump handle, nozzle, and hose! Oh no! Someone had driven off with the nozzle still in the tank.

I could see the driver was a woman, so I started shouting Ma’am! Ma’am! while waving my arms. Due to my efforts or maybe those of the bystanders, the driver stopped the car. After quickly excusing myself from my current conversation, I hustled toward the small white car.

You left with the nozzle still in your tank, I explained to the driver. She looked shocked. I don’t think she quite believed me.

I went around to the passenger side of the car and retrieved the nozzle, handle, and hose. You can bet she believed me then. I told her I needed to get her license plate number and call a manager.

You are in trouble, I thought but did not say out loud.

I asked her to pull around and park near the fuel center, and she said she would. I ran into the kiosk and paged a manager. The manager called back immediately, and I explained the situation. He told me to call the company that services the pumps, and then he hung up.

I ran back out to find the driver had parked her car right back at the scene of her big mistake. She was out of the car waiting for me. She must have been in her 60s although her hair was dark black and she didn’t seem feeble of body or mind. 

I wrote down her license plate number. When I asked for her name and phone number, she gave them without hesitation.

I ran back into the kiosk to help the people who had accumulated in a line while I was outside. The next thing I knew, the driver of the white car was back in line. When she reached the window, she said she hadn’t gotten all the gas for which she had paid. I didn’t understand what she was talking about, so I told her I’d meet her outside where the intercom and bulletproof glass would not hinder our communication.

When I got outside, I found her sitting in the driver’s seat of her car. She explained she always puts $10 worth of gas in her car, and $10 worth of gas always fills the tank. Since her tank was not currently full, she was sure she had not gotten her full $10 worth of gas. She pointed to her gas gauge several times, as if I only needed to look at the gauge to understand the problem.

I was incredulous. She’d just damaged the gas pump, yet she was quibbling over (at most) a couple of bucks. Didn’t she know she was in a lot of trouble? Apparently she did not.

I told her I didn’t really know what to do in this situation and asked if she wanted me to call a manager. She said she did.

If I had just ripped the hose and handle and nozzle from a gas pump, I would have slunk away in shame and hoped I wouldn’t be charged for the damage I’d done. Not this lady. She wanted every bit of gas to which she thought she was entitled.

I went back to the kiosk and again paged a manager. Again a manager called immediately.

I explained the lady who’d driven off with the nozzle and hose thought we owed her more gas. I don’t know what to do, I told the manager.

The manager chuckled and said he’d come out and talk to her. Surely she’d realize she was in trouble when the manager arrived. Surely he’d set her straight.

In a few minutes the manager used his key to enter the kiosk. I almost shit my pants. It was the big boss, the store manager himself. Up until that moment, I had not met him; I only knew who he was because I read his name tag.

I introduced myself, and we shook hands. Then I briefly went over the situation with the driver of the white car. He said he’d go out and talk to her.I stayed in the kiosk and continued to help customers. I couldn’t hear how the conversation between the driver of the white car and the manager went, but I was convinced the woman was in trouble now.

The manager was out there for at least 10 minutes. When he came back in, he looked defeated.

I couldn’t make her understand, he said. He told me the driver was going to pull the white car to pump 9. He said I should authorize the pump for $10. You register is going to be short.

I guess the driver of the white car wasn’t in any trouble after all.

I found out later that the hose is constructed to detach the way it did if a driver pulls off with the nozzle still in the tank. However, there was a problem with the separation point on this one and it leaked gas. Instead of being able to simply click the two connectors back into place like it was designed to do, a repair person had to come out on Monday to fix the problem. A coworker told me the repair cost the company I work for $500. No one ever asked me for the culprit’s name, phone number, or license plate number, so I suspect she’s not going to have to pay for her mistake.

Little Doggie

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According to the National Day Calendar website, today is National Dog Day. According to the National Dog Day website,

National Dog Day celebrates all breeds, pure and mixed and serves to help galvanize the public to recognize the number of dogs that need to be rescued each year, either from public shelters, rescues and pure breed rescues. National Dog Day honors family dogs and dogs that work selflessly to save lives, keep us safe and bring comfort.

In honor of National Dog Day, I’m sharing a story about a cute little pup I witnessed repeatedly escaping from his master on a slow day of trying to sell jewelry and shiny rocks.

I was trying to sell my jewelry and shiny rocks at an outdoor market near a tourist attraction, but there hadn’t been much interest in my merchandise. Some days are like that. Even with plenty of visitors milling about and lots of beautiful items on my table, I wasn’t selling much.

I had a lot of time to watch the tourists on that overcast and chilly day. People watching has always been one of my favorite activities, and I was enjoying seeing everyone come and go.

White Long Coated Dog on Grassland

Quite a ways down the road that runs through the area where the market is held, I saw a small, fluffy white dog that seemed to be on its own. It was standing on the edge between where the road becomes the parking area. The dog stood there calmly, apparently surveying the scene, but I worried about how close it was to moving traffic. In my experience, tourists are often lacking in observational skills, and I was afraid a driver would not notice the little dog and run it down. Just as I was about to get out of my chair and walk over to the dog, it turned around and walked back between parked cars. Disaster averted.

Maybe 10 or 15 minutes later I looked up from the bracelet I’d started making and saw the same little white fluffy dog much closer to me (only two vendors over) sitting in the middle of the roadway. I looked around for someone rushing over to scoop up and scold the dog, but no one seemed to be missing it. Was the dog out there alone?

Again, just as I was about to get out of my chair and approach the dog, it was no longer in danger. The fellow who’d been shopping with the vendor two tables down from me strode out into the road and picked up the pup and carried it to safety. Then he made a big production of snapping a leash onto the dog’s collar. If he had a leash, why had he hesitated to use it with a dog he must have known was a wanderer? Life is full of mysteries, but it seems to me that a wandering dog should certainly be leashed in a parking lot full of distracted drivers.

The fellow and his dog passed my table without a glance. It was that kind of day.

Not five minutes later, I looked up from my work again and saw the same little dog trotting across the road, making a beeline for some bikers taking a break. His leash trailed behind him.

His person was at another vendor’s table, seemingly so caught up in shopping that he couldn’t be bothered to hold onto his dog’s leash. Perhaps the dog was a master escape artist and his person could do little to keep him where he didn’t want to be. The truth of the matter is that I don’t know the whole story, and I shouldn’t judge. When the guy crossed the road to retrieve the doggie yet again, I wanted to run over and tell him he didn’t deserve such a cute dog, but I didn’t. I stayed in my chair and hoped he’d keep the little dog out of harm’s way.

Image courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/nature-animal-dog-pet-33053/.

Amazing

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Fuel Dispenser

Part of my job at the fuel center is helping people who are having trouble at the pump. If customers can’t make their pumps work, I leave the kiosk and assist.

Some people would probably do just fine if they actually read the instructions on the screen.

Pump one won’t let me pump gas, the lady said to me through the intercom.                        

When I got outside, we determined she hadn’t selected the fuel grade as the screen was prompting. As soon as she hit the button for unleaded, the screen showing the numbers of gallons pumped and the dollar amount zeroed out and she was able to pump her fuel.

Sometimes the problem is the store’s rewards card. The pumping process begins with a screen that reads “Do you have a rewards card?” If the customer doesn’t push the blue “yes” button on the PIN pad, the transaction will go all to hell, and I’ll have to go outside to help.

Other times I go outside and trust the customer has done everything right, and still the pump is not working. In those cases I hang up the handle and patiently go through the steps again. Usually the pump works after I take it through the process. After I get the pump going, I make a joke about how computers are supposed to make our lives easier or that the pump just needed my magic touch. I try not to make people feel bad if they’re having a difficult time out there. I understand that every gas station seems to work differently and technology can be intimidating, especially to older folks who seem to be the ones who have problems. (I’ve never had to help anyone under the age of 50 pump their gas.)

Sometimes the problem I have to solve has nothing to do with the company I work for or the equipment it provides.

One Saturday afternoon a woman who looked to be in her 50s approached me the kiosk. When I asked her through the intercom how I could help her, she asked me if I knew how to unlock a locking gas cap.

Oh for goodness sake! I grumbled internally, but I smiled and told her I’d come out and try to help her.

How did the woman end up driving a truck with a gas cap she didn’t know how to unlock? I didn’t ask, but I figured it was the vehicle her husband usually drives or it was her kid’s truck or she had borrowed it from a friend. However this woman had ended up with it, she was now tasked with putting gas in it, but she couldn’t get to the gas tank.

She probably could have called the owner of the truck and asked for assistance, but maybe she would have felt humiliated had she done so. Maybe her husband or her kid or her friend would have teased her or called her an idiot or been exasperated by her helplessness, and she couldn’t face it today. Perhaps it was easier to show vulnerability to the middle age gas station attendant than to a member of her own family. Who knows? I’m just making up stories, but I went outside to help. 

This is the key, she said indicating a small key on a ring with about 20 other keys of various sizes.

I tried using the key, but the other keys got in the way, and I couldn’t turn the small one.

Maybe it would work better if I took it off the key ring, the lady said, and I agreed.

Once the small key was isolated I could be sure it fit all the way into the lock. I turned the key, then turned the cap. The cap moved, but no matter what way I turned it, there was a clicking noise that said it wasn’t properly engaged.

I was beginning to wonder if I’d be able to help the woman when I had the idea to push the key into the lock while turning it. I’d hit upon the magic combination of moves because now I could turn the cap effectively and (finally!) remove it.

As I handed the cap and the key to the woman, she smiled hugely at me and said, You’re amazing!

Her appreciation made me feel good, but being able to help her made me feel good too. It was so clear that I’d really made her day. I was glad I hadn’t given her attitude or treated her like a dummy. I was glad I’d given her my attention and done my best to assist her. Sometimes I am rather amazing.

Image courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/fuel-dispenser-1563510/.

Fuel Station Etiquette

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Vintage Red Car Die-cast Model

As vandwellers, nomads, rubber tramps, and vagabonds, we’re on the road a lot. Driving a vehicle eventually means stopping to fuel up. After my recent (short-lived) career as a clerk at a fuel center, I’d like to offer up some etiquette tips to follow while at a gas station, truck stop, or anywhere else folks go to put diesel, gasoline, or flex fuel in a rig, tow vehicle, generator, or gas can.

#1 Know what pump you’re on before you stand in front of the clerk.

Green Single-cab Pickup Truck Beside a Gas Pump Station

Having to back up to find the number of the tank where you want to pump your fuel wastes everyone’s time.

#2 Know how much you want to spend before you interact with the clerk. Standing in front of the cash register counting your money or figuring out how much is in your fuel budget slows down everyone in line behind you.

Several Us Dollar Roll Placed on White Surface

#3 If you keep your bills in your bra, sock, or underpants, for goodness sake, take your money out of your intimate hiding place where the clerk can’t see you. Trust me, store clerks do not want to know where your money has been.

#4 Do not hand over money with bodily fluid on it. No blood, snot, saliva, breast milk, feces, urine, semen, or vaginal secretions, PLEASE. 

#5 Do not get upset with the fuel clerk if your preferred method of payment is not accepted. The fuel clerk did not make the decision to reject your preferred method of payment. The fuel clerk was probably not asked to offer an opinion. The decision came from on high, and the fuel clerk can’t do a dang thing about it.

#6 Do not get upset with the fuel clerk if equipment isn’t working. The

Blue Shell Gas Dispenser

problem may be user error. Politely ask the fuel clerk for assistance. Do not accuse or threaten. Remember the life lesson about catching more flies with honey than with vinegar. The fuel clerk is the fly you want to catch and have on your side.

#7Do not drive like a bat-out-of-hell in the fuel center. Drive slowly, carefully, and courteously. People are walking around out there. You don’t want to hit anyone, and you don’t want to incite road rage.

#8 Wait your turn. Whether you’re waiting to get to the pump or to pay for your fuel, don’t try to get ahead of people who were there before you. No one likes a cheater.

Photo of a 2 Fireman Killing a Huge Fire

#9 Don’t smoke anywhere in the fuel center. Drivers should already know this, but sometimes it seems they do not. Pumping fuel has become second nature to most of us, and we forget the stuff that powers our vehicles can be dangerous. Don’t let the spark from your cigarette or cigar be the one that sets the fuel center on fire.

#10 If you spill fuel, let a worker know. Spills happen. They’re a fact of fuel center life.  Fuel center workers have the proper equipment for cleaning spills, but they can’t clean what they don’t know is there.

So there you have it, ten tips for keeping any fueling area safe and running smoothly. Of course, you probably already have a firm grasp on these ideas. Common knowledge, right? You’d be surprised (and probably appalled too.)

Images courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/toys-gasoline-gas-station-car-gas-20647/, https://www.pexels.com/photo/blue-sky-daylight-diesel-electric-post-210063/, https://www.pexels.com/photo/bank-bank-notes-batch-bills-302842/, https://www.pexels.com/photo/abandoned-business-classic-dirty-284288/, and https://www.pexels.com/photo/water-outside-fire-hose-69934/.

World Photography Day

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Today is World Photography Day! According to an article from The Economic Times,


World Photography Day…aims to inspire photographers across the planet to share a single photo with a simple purpose: to share their world with the world.

Unfortunately, at the time I’m writing this post (on Christmas Day 2018) I can’t figure out where we are supposed to share our single photo today. The World Photo Day Facebook page hasn’t been updated since August 2017, and when I go to the Wold Photo Day website, I get an Error 521 message (“web server is down”). Maybe by the time this post actually runs in August of 2019, there will be updated information out in the world.

In the meantime, I want to share photos today of two of my favorite things: cameras and vans!

Yep, it’s the Camera Van!

Van is entirely covered in cameras!
Camera Van’s website says, “Before the first camera was glued to the van in 1993, fellow car artist Ron Dolce [said]…’you can’t just glue a bunch of cameras on a van and call it art…You have to paint with the cameras.’ The result? A perfect, blow up-replica of a kodak [sic] instamatic [sic] on the camera [sic] Van’s driver’s side comprised entirely of Kodak instamatics [sic].”

Nolagirl and I encountered Camera Van at spark! Mesa’s Festival of Creativity which we attended in the spring of 2018. There were a lot of art cars there and a few art vans too, including Camera Van.

Front view of the Camera Van, entirely covered in cameras.
The Camera Van website says, “The Camera Van’s front grill features every polaroid [sic] camera ever made, from the Land Camera to the popular “One-Step” to The Swinger.”

Camera Van was created by Harrod Blank. According to Camera Van’s very own website, it is


the world’s most unique rolling photographic studio, truly the world’s ONLY van carpeted wall-to-wall in cameras and rigged to catch the candid expressions of people everywhere.

According to the Tucson.com article “World’s Funkiest Cars Find a Home in Douglas” by Luis F. Carrasco, Camera Van is Blank’s second art car, which he started working on in 1993. The van is

…covered with more than 2,000 cameras and assorted photography paraphernalia. It took him two years to complete.

Detail of the passenger side of the Camera Van.
The Camera Van website says of the passenger side, “…a representation of the human eye glows and gazes outward in color lens filter, flashcubes and mirrored glass.

Harrod Blank is also the creator of the Art Car World museum in Douglas, AZ. According the the musem’s website, Art Car World is


[a] museum dedicated entirely to the celebration and preservation of this popular mobile art form…located in historic downtown Douglas, Arizona. Currently under construction, Art Car World will feature a permanent collection of 42 popular Art Cars with more on rotating exhibition.

Art Car World is located at 450 E 8th Street in Douglas, AZ and is open by appointment only. You can contact the museum to schedule a visit or to get more information via email at excentrix@aol.com or by sending a letter to the street address given above.

The back of the Art Van is full of cameras.
There are more cameras on the back of the Camera Van!

Be sure to visit the Camera Van website to see the surprise on the vehicle’s roof.

If you like, take some photos today. Share them on Facebook or Instagram or go old school and have prints made. However you do it, use photography to share your world with the world.


If you enjoyed this post, you may also want to read about another art van called California Fantasy Van  and an art car called J Gurl that were also at the spark! Festival.

I took all the photos in this post.

Boob Money

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When I work at the fuel center, I spend most of my time in a booth where the customers can’t touch me. The booth has windows on three sides; the windows are allegedly bulletproof. (I don’t need to see evidence of this with my own eyes, thank you.) Conversing is done through an intercom. Money, credit cards, and tobacco products are passed through a sliding drawer in the wall. The company I work for calls the booth “the kiosk.”

One afternoon I was outside the kiosk conditioning. Conditioning just means making sure the product displays look good. I pull items to the front of the display cases, turn items so the fronts are facing forward, and fill any empty slots. It’s an easy task, improves the look of the sales area, and gets me out of the kiosk. While I’m outside, I also look around for trash on the ground, empty paper towel dispensers, and problems with the pumps.

While I’m outside conditioning, I keep an eye out for customers who have approached the kiosk. When someone walks up to the kiosk, I have to stop what I’m doing, walk to the kiosk, unlock the door, go inside, make sure the door closes behind me, approach the window, and use the intercom to find out how I can help the customer. It would be a lot easier if I could do my outside work without customer interruption, but that’s never the way it works.

On the day in question, I glanced over to the kiosk and saw that a customer had approached the kiosk. This customer was very tall and hyper-feminine. At first I thought she was a drag queen. Maybe she was.

(While I’m not sure of this person’s biological sex—and it doesn’t matter to me anyway—I will use feminine pronouns because this person was definitely presenting in a way that our society reads as female.)

The customer was wearing high heels, jeggings printed to look like red snakeskin, and a pink bustier. Her long, thick, dark hair cascaded down her bare back. I wondered where this person was going dressed this way on a weekday afternoon. It didn’t much matter because her fashion choices were none of my business.

I returned to my kiosk sanctuary and approached my base of operations at the window where the drawer is. I used the intercom to say, Hi! How can I help you today?  

Rolled 20 U.s Dollar Bill

She said she needed $20 on pump 6. She had a few crumpled bills in her hand, but after looking at them she seemed to realize they wouldn’t be enough. That’s when she started digging in her cleavage. I don’t mean she reached daintily between her breasts and gently extracted a bill. No, she was rooting around in there, digging under her left breast, having a hard time finding what she needed. I honestly thought she might pop her boob out completely. Thankfully she did not.

She finally found the twenty dollar bill she wanted and put it in the drawer. I wasn’t disgusted so much as astounded. I had no real reason to be disgusted. Her boobs were probably cleaner than mine. Hers were probably lotioned, perfumed, and powdered. However, I have to admit I felt a little weird about touching money that had been stashed in such an intimate place.

I’m not saying I’ve never carried money in my bra. Ladies’ dressy clothes often lack pockets and a gal doesn’t always want to carry a purse.

The difference is that when I’ve carried money in my bra, I discretely removed the cash before I was ready to pay. I can attest to the fact that store clerks DO NOT want to know where your money has been. My customer could have counter her money in the car and when she realized she didn’t have enough for $20 on pump six, she could have gotten out her boob money before she approached the kiosk. I didn’t really need—or want—to see her pull her money out from under her breast. 

Image courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/rolled-20-u-s-dollar-bill-164527/.

Checklist of Things to Take on the Road

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White Rv on Road

First of all, let me say that nobody needs to get a bunch of fancy stuff before starting life on the road whether in a van, car, motorhome, truck camper, travel trailer, or fifth wheel. There’s nothing wrong with being a minimalist because you’re more comfortable that way or because you can’t afford to spend a lot of money on gear. This list is not meant as a shopping list or list of must-have items. I put this list together to help nomads plan ahead, to help folks think about what equipment might increase comfort for a weekend or a lifetime on the road. Feel free to cross out the items you’ll never use and add in the items I forgot. Make this list your own and use it any way you want or ignore it completely. Think of it as helpful advice, suggestions from a long-time van dweller, not as commandments you are compelled to follow.

Kitchen

*stove   *fuel for stove   *lighter or matches for lighting stove   *water for drinking and washing   *jugs for water   *cooler for perishables   *ice for cooler   *perishable food   *canned goods and other non-perishable food   *herbs and spices   *salt    *pepper   *at least one pan for cooking (I use cast iron skillets)   *at least one pan with lid for cooking grains/boiling potatoes/etc.  *bowl    *plate (although you can typically get away with using just a bowl)   *fork/spoon/spork/knife   *stainless steel cup   *knife for food prep   *cutting board   *water bottle   *can opener   *spatula/turner   *soap for cleanup *dishtowels   *rags   *paper towels

Bathroom

*toilet paper   *wet wipes   *pee jug/bucket   *container for defecation  

Closeup and Selective Focus Photography of Toothbrush With Toothpaste

*plastic garbage bags to line defecation container   *cat litter/peat moss/puppy training pads for defecation system   *hand and body soap (I like Dr. Bronner’s liquid peppermint soap for most any washing need)   *washcloths   *towel   *shower shoes   *shampoo   *conditioner   *dry shampoo   *feminine hygiene products   *toothbrush   *toothpaste   *dental floss   *mouthwash   *razors   *shaving cream   *witch Hazel   *cotton pads or cotton balls   *small shovel (if you’re going to dig a cat hole while camping on public land)

First Aid

Person Holding White Hand Wrap

*self-adhesive bandages   *ace bandage   *large gauze pads   *medical tape   *rubbing alcohol   *hydrogen peroxide   *antibiotic ointment   *cough drops   *decongestant   *cough syrup   *vitamin C supplement   *over-the-counter pain relievers   *tweezers   *instructions for removing a tick   *cotton swabs   *mole skin *aloe vera gel for burn/sunburn relief

Laundry Day

*quarters   *laundry bag   *laundry detergent   *stain remover   *bleach   *fabric softener/dryer sheets

Clothing

*socks   *underwear   *bras   *sunhat   *sturdy shoes   *comfortable shoes to wear at camp   *jeans or other sturdy pants   *long and short sleeve shirts   *nice outfit   *shorts or cool-weather skirt   *swimsuit   *water shoes   *handkerchiefs   *jacket and/or coat   *warm hat   *warm gloves or mittens   *long winter underwear   *scarf   *pajamas   *special clothes for any sports you participate in

For the Rig

*tire gauge   *jack   *tire iron   *jumper cables   *can of Fix-a-Flat   *portable

Brown Spoke Car Wheel in Brown Sand during Daytime

air compressor   *oil   *gas jug   *emergency flairs   *coolant/antifreeze   *brake fluid   *transmission fluid   *roadside assistance coverage   *owner’s manual *Chilton or Haynes manual   *log book

Basic Tools

*hammer   *Phillips-head screwdriver   *flat-head screwdriver   *adjustable wrench   *Allen wrenches   *pliers    *work gloves  

For Your Comfort

Red Lens Sunglasses on Sand Near Sea at Sunset Selective Focus Photography

*sunglasses   *lip balm   *lotion   *sunscreen   *walking stick   *insect repellent   *sleep aid   *ear plugs   *sleep mask   *12 volt fan   *brush   *comb   *hand mirror   *flashlight or headlamp *batteries for flashlight or headlamp   *solar lights   *mattress/camping pad/foam pad/hammock   *sheets   *blankets and/or sleeping bag   *pillow   *curtains   *portable heater   *fuel for portable heater   *reading material   *music (radio/phone/MP3 player)

Miscellaneous

*invertor   *phone charger   *phone   *GPS system   *paper maps   *driver’s license   *proof of insurance   *insurance company’s phone number *vehicle registration   *AAA or Good Sam’s membership card   *roadside assistance phone number   *spare key(s)   *12 volt extension cord   *camera   *travel journal

What important things do you take on the road that I’ve forgotten to include here? Let me know by leaving a comment below. If I think your suggestions have broad appeal, I might just add them to this list!

Images courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/white-rv-on-road-2580312/, https://www.pexels.com/photo/blur-bristle-brush-clean-298611/, https://www.pexels.com/photo/person-holding-white-hand-wrap-1571170/, https://www.pexels.com/photo/brown-spoke-car-wheel-in-brown-sand-during-daytime-53161/, and https://www.pexels.com/photo/sunglasses-sunset-summer-sand-46710/.

Why I Quit My Job (Blog Post Bonus)

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Today is my last day as a clerk in a fuel center! By this evening, I will be a free woman!

Photo of Car on Gas Station

I started working in the fuel center (aka gas station) at a supermarket in mid-June of 2019. It was the only job offer I’d gotten after a half-assed job search, so I took it. I immediately disliked the job, although I did find some good aspects of it. Reason after reason to hate the job piled up as the weeks went by; here are 13 reasons why I quit.

#1 Working the opening shift. The worst days on the job were the ones where I had to open the fuel center at 5:45am. I lived about 40 minutes from where I worked, so I had to leave around five o’clock to get there on time. I move super slow in the morning, so I had to get out of bed no later than 4:15 in order to leave the house on time.

I’m typically an early riser. I wake up around the time the sun rises, anywhere from 5:30 to 7:00 (if I sleep in), but getting out of bed in the dark is difficult for me. Also difficult? Making a 40 minute drive in the dark. There were many mornings I knew I was falling asleep at the wheel, but I kept driving.

To be fair, once I arrived at work and got into the swing of things, I was ok, especially if I had a cup of coffee on my way in. However, at the end of the day I was physically and mentally demolished, especially since I never got to bed early enough on the nights before opening shifts.

#2 Having to deal with fuel and the chemicals used to clean it.  I had to clean up fuel spills nearly every day. To clean up spilled fuel, I sprayed another chemical on top of it, scrubbed the chemical soup with a long-handled brush, then used super absorbent pads to soak up the whole mess. What kind of chemical neutralizes fuel? I have no idea. Is that chemical safe for long-term exposure to humans? I have no idea. I’m pretty sure gasoline fumes and car exhaust are no good for human people, even if the chemical used to clean the spills is harmless.

#3 Lack of hand-washing facilities. There was no sink and no soap in the

Person Wash Hands

fuel center kiosk. We were supplied with vinyl gloves and hand sanitizing gel, but those things are not as good as using soap and water (in my opinion). There was a water spigot at the far edge of the fuel center, and I suppose I could have brought my own soap, but such a hand-washing situation was inconvenient at best.

#4 Limited breaks.  If I worked less than 8 hours, I was allowed one 20 minute break. In that 20 minutes I had to walk across the parking lot and into the store to get to the break room, wash my (filthy) hands, use the restroom, wash my hands again, eat my lunch, then walk back through the store and across the parking lot. If someone was in the only employee restroom when I got there or if I had to heat my food in the microwave, I lost precious minutes.

If I worked an 8 hour shift, I got two 15 minute breaks. Two breaks are better than one, but getting everything done in 15 minutes was an even bigger challenge.

When I worked the morning shift, a cashier from the supermarket would come out to give me a break right around 9am. When I worked afternoons, I was supposed to get a break around 3pm, but good luck with that! A customer service manager (CSM) told me early in my fuel center career that I was out of sight/out of mind, and if I wanted a break, I’d have to remind the person in charge of scheduling. After I was given this bit of info, every afternoon I worked, I paged the CSM on duty to remind them about my break.

The CSM on duty might not have been prompt about giving me a break, but I sure as hell needed to be prompt about leaving and returning in my allotted amount of time.

U.s. Dollar Banknote Lot

One morning just as my relief showed up, the cash register prompted me to make a safe drop. I said I’d do it when I got back. My relief (a veteran cashier) pulled a long face and said the prompt would keep popping up the whole time I was gone. I knew he was right, so I stuck around for a few minutes to complete the safe drop. Then one of the big bosses arrived, and I had a couple of things to tell her. I was maybe five minutes late leaving.

When I returned to the kiosk, the person who had relieved me left immediately. I hadn’t been back two minutes when the phone rang. It was the CSM in charge of scheduling breaks calling to find out if her cashier had left. I said he had. She wanted to know why he was late returning to the supermarket. I explained I was late leaving because of the cash drop and having to talk to the store manager. She told me if I was late getting back from my break, it threw off the schedule of all the breaks that came after mine. She said if I was late leaving for a break, I’d have to take a shorter break so her schedule wasn’t messed up. I understood where she was coming from but her pissy attitude did not endear her to me.

I simply told her, I understand (which actually, I did) and made up my mind

Fireman Illustration

that I’d never be late leaving for a break again, no matter what was going on. Safe drop needed? Sorry. I’ll have to do it after my break. Irate customer? Sorry relief person, you’ll have to handle it because I have to go on my break. The fuel center is on fire? Could you go ahead and call the fire department and the management team because I have to take my break now?

The worst part about having only one break in a shift was that I only got to use the restroom once in 6 or 7 hours. I learned quickly that I needed to visit the restroom immediately before I started work, but some days I was desperate to see the toilet when my break rolled around.

One day I mentioned to one of the (female) store managers that three hours is a long time to go without a bathroom break. She said to just ask if I needed to visit the restroom during my shift, and they would get someone to the fuel center to cover for me. I appreciated her support but was skeptical of how asking for an extra break would work out. I could imagine the pissy CSM fussing at me for messing up her break schedule by having a bathroom emergency.

#5 Not knowing when my breaks would be. If I had known what time I was supposed to get my break, I’d have spent less time worrying I wasn’t going to get a break. I also wouldn’t have had to call the CSM to remind them I still needed a break. However, such a level of organization and communication was much too high of an expectation when dealing with the company I worked for.

#6 Being required to stand during my whole shift. Why do corporations think excellent customer service can only be provided while standing? I think I would have given better customer service if my feet and legs hadn’t hurt from standing for 6 or more hours. I guess the rule against sitting is part of the if you have time to lean, you have time to clean mentality, but I think morale would improve if cashiers were allowed to sit while ringing up sales.

#7 Having my availability ignored. When I applied for the job online, I had to provide my availability. I said I was available any time other than Tuesday mornings. When I was interviewed for the job, I told the assistant manager conducting the interview that I was not available on Tuesday mornings. The first several weeks I worked, I wasn’t scheduled to work before noon on Tuesdays (and often I got the entire day off), but suddenly I was scheduled to open on a Tuesday. No one asked me to do it as a special favor. No one apologized for scheduling during a time I said I couldn’t work. I strongly suspected that if I stayed at the job, I’d find myself scheduled on Tuesdays more and more often.

#8 I was working too much. When I was offered the job, I was told it was a part-time position. The assistant manager who hired me said the job offered no set number of hours. He said one week I might work 16 hours; the next, 23; another week I might work 35 hours. Since I was hired in June, I was consistently scheduled to work at least 32 hours each week. In reality, I never got out of there when I was scheduled to. I was lucky if I only worked 15 or 20 minutes extra at the end of a shift. Of course, I got paid for every extra minute I worked, but I’d rather have the time than the money.

Three shifts a week would have been ok, but five were too many.

#9 No sick leave with pay. When I was hired, the human resources person

Clinician Writing Medical Report

told me nothing about vacation time or sick leave. I found out later from a veteran worker in the supermarket that the state we worked in doesn’t require employers to provide sick pay. Guess what? Because they’re not required by the state to provide it, the company didn’t offer sick pay. This means anyone who is too sick to come into work doesn’t get paid for the shift.

I suspect workers who can’t afford to miss a day’s pay go to work no matter how sick they are. Most of the company’s employees work in a supermarket. Think about that for a moment. Those sick people are touching food. Even if they don’t touch the food directly, they’re putting their germy hands all over the packages containing food. Yuck! Now I understand why it sometimes seems like an illness is hitting everyone in town: germs are probably being spread through the supermarket.

#10 Selling tobacco products was a drag. From the day I started working

Close-up Photo of Red Cigarette Butt Lot

in the fuel center, I hated selling cigarettes, chew, and cheap cigars. I think using tobacco products is a bad idea, and I don’t like participating in people’s addictions in order to line someone’s pocket.(Every time I sold a pack of cigarettes, I ended the transaction by saying have a nice day, but I was thinking good luck with your lung cancer.)

I hated the hassle of checking IDs and entering birth dates in my POS (point-of-sale) system, but I hated even more the fear of getting busted for selling tobacco products to some underage kid. There just wasn’t enough time to do a thorough check of an ID when I had a line of customers, and I was worried someone was going to slip a fake one past me.

Selling tobacco products really slowed down my process. Although I’d learned the most popular brands and their varieties by the time I quit, searching for what the customer wanted took time. Then, unless the customer was obviously older than I was, I felt compelled to check the ID. All the while, the line behind the tobacco buyer grew.

I’ll be glad if I never have to sell a tobacco product again.

#11 Having too much responsibility. Not only did I feel responsible for not selling tobacco products to minors, I felt a huge amount of responsibility to make sure the fuel center did not go up in flames. The smallest fuel spill had me rushing outside to clean it up ASAP. I was constantly on the lookout for anyone smoking or doing any other stupid things that might lead to a fire.

Of course, I felt responsible for making correct change, helping each customer promptly, and being as polite as possible, but keeping the place from turning into the towering inferno was more than I had bargained for when looking for a summer job.

#12 The damned intercom system was driving everyone crazy. The intercom system was old and didn’t function very well. Often I’d press the button that was supposed to allow the person on the other side of the bulletproof glass to hear me speak, but something would go wrong with the system and the customer heard nothing. Sometimes the person on the other side of the glass spoke to me but no sound came through. Sometimes the sound that came through was garbled or crackly. Even on a good day, the poorly functioning intercom system was enough to irritate a saint. My customers and I were mere mortals and the misunderstandings caused by the crappy intercom system often led to frayed nerves and sharp tongues.

While I worked in the fuel center, a young man came out to repair the malfunctioning diesel pumps. (Spoiler alert: the diesel pumps were not repaired when he left.) When he was finished not fixing the diesel pumps, he worked on the intercom system.

He took a plate off the back of the intercom box and wiggled the wires hidden behind the plate. He said the intercom worked better now. Maybe it did, but not for long. I’m sure those wires wiggled right back out.

He said we could wiggle the wires back in ourselves if the intercom malfunctioned. Huh. I had neither a screwdriver to remove the plate, nor the time to remove it and futz around with wires. When people were in line to buy gas, they wanted to buy gas, not wait around for the clerk to repair the communication system.

I’m not surprised the company I worked for didn’t want to spend the money to get a modern, functioning intercom system in the fuel center. Why should the big bosses care if customers and workers alike are pissed off because communication is difficult? The big bosses don’t have to deal with it, and they’d rather save money instead of spend it to make the lives of workers easier.

#13 Dealing with grumpy people.  Oh lord. Grumpy customers. Grumpy coworkers. So many unhappy people, and they all seemed to want to bring me down to their level of agitation and dissatisfaction. I tried to be pleasant to everyone, but after being spoken to sharply several times in one shift, I was ready to pack it in. I will not miss the folks who wanted to take their troubles out on me.

Can you understand now why I quit the job? What would you have done? Would you have quit too or tried to stick it out until winter? Let me know what you think by leaving a comment below.

Images courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/photo-of-car-on-gas-station-2440998/, https://www.pexels.com/photo/person-wash-hands-1327213/, https://www.pexels.com/photo/abundance-bank-banking-banknotes-259027/, https://www.pexels.com/photo/accident-action-danger-emergency-260367/, https://www.pexels.com/photo/clinician-writing-medical-report-1919236/, and https://www.pexels.com/photo/dirty-addiction-cigarette-unhealthy-46183/.

Friendly by Nature Little Free Library in Phoenix, AZ

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The Friendly by Nature Little Free Library. The top and side are mosaics.

My favorite Little Free Library (LFL) Nolagirl and I visited during our Phoenix Little Free Library excursion was the second one we went to. This one has the name “Friendly by Nature,” and the charter number is 5974. This registered LFL is decorated with beautiful, colorful mosaics and sits at the front of a yard decorated with more mosaics.

If you don’t yet know about the gift economy of the Little Free Library movement, here are a few things you should know. According to the Little Free Library organization’s FAQs

Little Free Library is a registered nonprofit organization that inspires a love of reading, builds community, and sparks creativity by fostering neighborhood book exchanges around the world.

The left side of the Friendly by Nature Little Free Library shows a saguaro cactus and a hot hot sun.

As soon as Nolagirl parked in front of the house this LFL belongs to, I was attracted to the library’s bright colors. I was really excited when I got out of the vehicle and moved closer to the library and discovered the brightly colored scenes were composed from irregular tiles. WOW! I also greatly appreciated the desert scenes featured on this LFL. Pictured on the LFL are a saguaro cactus, the hot midday sun, and the starry night visible when one leaves the city behind. Beneath the moonlight, there is a row of books, much like those found in the actual Little Free Library.

The other side of the Friendly by Nature Little Free Library shows the desert night and a row of books ready for reading.

The outside of the Little Free Library was not the only thing on the property sporting bright mosaics. Several round poles just beyond the LFL were also decorated with colorful tiles. I didn’t want to infringe upon the privacy of the steward of the little library, but I did snap a few photos of other pieces of mosaic art.

I was so impressed with the artistic work that I wrote out a quick note expressing my appreciation. I left the note tucked in the LFL. I think it’s really important to tell people when we like their work. I know from experience that artists often don’t get enough positive feedback, so I like to rectify that situation when I can.

This mosaic is visible without going too far onto the property of the Little Free Library’s steward. I love that the lady’s nose is made from what appears to be a cup handle.

I left my email address on the note, and several days later I was pleased to find a message from the artist in my inbox. She wrote,

Thank you for the postcard regarding my Little Free Library and my other mosaics. I retired from Intel about three years ago and started making mosaics.  I have done many commissions.

My adobe house, courtyard and casita are my inspiration!

The artist then invited me to come over and see more of her mosaics! Wow! I was so flattered. Unfortunately, I already had plans for all of my days in Phoenix and I was unable to visit the artist and see more of her work. So disappointing! I’ve dropped the ball during my subsequent visits to Phoenix and never made plans to go over to this gracious woman’s house. My bad. Maybe someday I can still pay her a visit. I sure hope so because I want to see more of these splendid mosaics!

The sun shines above it all.

Space Aliens

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These space aliens have probably never in their whole lives been to a gas station before today.

I swear some of the people who come to the fuel center where I work must be space aliens. I constantly want to ask people if they’ve never in their whole lives been to a gas station before today. I’m not talking about 15 year old kids, either. I’m talking about grown-ass adults of middle age or older.

Many confused space aliens, (aka my customers) have no idea what pump they’ve parked at when they come to the kiosk to pay. It seems to me it’s basic gas station procedure to be able to tell the cashier what pump to authorize. I know some percentage of my customers are illiterate or don’t speak English as their first language, which accounts for some of the confusion. However, these situations don’t account for all the people who come up to my window (or make it part of the way there) then have to turn around and look for the number of their pump so they can tell it to me. Space aliens, I tell you!

How much money do you folks want to spend on gas? No idea? I figured as much.

Another thing people who seem to have never been to a gas station do is come up to my window with no idea how much money they plan to spend. Folks constantly come up, open their wallets, and start counting their money. Once they determine the amount of their funds, then they decide how much gas to buy. Don’t they realize they’re going to have to give me money in order to make their purchase? Wouldn’t it be more efficient to count the money and decide how much to spend before approaching the kiosk? Apparently space aliens don’t think that way.

Space aliens often don’t understand how our loyalty rewards work either. Folks are often mad at me when I check their reward balance and tell them they’re not getting any discount today. I shop here all the time! one man/extraterrestrial said in anger before he stomped away. I tried to explain he had to earn 100 points (which typically means spending $100, although there are ways—bringing reusable shopping bags to pack groceries in, completing surveys, buying girt cards—to bump up one’s points) to receive a reward of 10 cents off the regular price per gallon of fuel. He was gone before I could help him reach an understanding. 

Let’s go to a gas station and study human behavior.

Often customers don’t know they have to lift the pump’s nozzle before they can select the fuel grade. This is somewhat understandable because at the other gas station chain in town, prepay customers tell the cashier what grade of gasoline they want. However, even there, if one is paying at the pump, one lifts the nozzle, then hits the button for the fuel grade desired. If the procedure isn’t obvious (and believe me, it must not be) the screen on the pump gives step-by-step instructions for pumping fuel. Perhaps space aliens should up their game on reading comprehension of American English before they try to pump gas in the USA.

The strangest that-person-must-be-an-alien encounter I had at the fuel center involved an (apparent) elderly man who didn’t understand beef jerky.

There’s a big merchandiser in the middle of the fuel center. It looks like a cooler; maybe once it was a cooler, but now it holds nonperishable items. One side is all snacks: chips, nuts, cookies, crackers, popcorn, energy bars, and cereal in single serving cups. The other side holds automotive supplies (fuel injector cleaner, motor oil, windshield washer fluid, etc.); a few big bags of chips; and an array of beef jerky.

I’d been outside when the man/alien pulled in. I’d told him good morning, and he attempted to chit chat with me. (He was probably trying to study human behavior). It was early in the morning—I’d opened the fuel center at 5:45—so I wasn’t very talkative.  Sure, I was polite, but I kept the interaction to a minimum. I was tired and wanted to expend as little energy as possible.

I didn’t get away with my silence for long.

Your cooler’s not working, I heard the man/alien say. He was standing by the merchandiser that looks like a cooler but isn’t a cooler. He must have opened the door and not felt the gust of chilled air he expected.

It’s not a cooler, sir, I told him.

But there’s meat in there! he said frantically.

It’s jerky, sir, I told him.

How did he look in there and see meat but not realize it was jerky? The meat in the cooler/not a cooler was in bags hanging from hooks not in trays lying flat like in a grocery store meat department. Also, if he had really looked at the meat, he would have seen it was brown and dry, not red and moist like raw meat. If those clues didn’t lead him to understand this meat was not perishable, perhaps the word “jerky” on the packaging would have offered him the information he needed. Besides, what gas station sells raw meat as snack food?

 It’s meat! he insisted. He wasn’t wrong, but he was confused.

Jerky doesn’t have to be refrigerated, sir, I explained.

How does he not know that? I wondered. How could anyone over the age of 25 not know that jerky doesn’t need to be refrigerated?

The only answer I could come up with? Space alien!

I took all the photos in this post at the Alien Fresh Jerky store in Baker, CA.