Snow Storm Thoughtlessness

To prove just how crazy folks have become since the news media has been trumpeting the impending doom that is the coming blizzard, I have this little tidbit that I experienced personally.

I had finished work for the day, went home to pick up the gas can so I could get some fuel for the Official Weekend Pundit Snowblower and to check what Deb might need to help her diminish the symptoms of her cold.

With the gas can in the back of the trusty F150, I headed off to Walmart to pick up their generic version of Nyquil. Twenty minutes later I had the cold remedy in hand and my wallet was 6 dollars lighter. From there it was off the gas station near the local airport, and then home.

I pulled into the gas station, and due to a few vehicles already occupying the pumps, I waited patiently for one of them directly in front of me to finish and then pull away. Finally, the fellow in the car at the pump I was going to used finished, got into his car and pulled away.

Just as I started moving forward towards the now vacant pump, a car pulled into the station from the road, cut in front of me and pulled in next to the pump I was going to use.

I admit to being a bit steamed that someone would pull such a rude and stupid stunt. I came inches from colliding with their left rear quarter as they made their mad dash for the pump. (I'd had to wait a small distance away from the pump because the previous car was facing towards me and needed the room to pull out.)

As the driver of the offending vehicle got out of her car, I honked my horn and gave her a “What the heck?” shrug.

Her response: “F**k you! I'm in a hurry!” It figures, considering she had Rhode Island plates.

My response was to pull up behind her car, put the F150 in park, roll down my window and say, “Here in New Hampshire we try to be polite. You might want to consider that while you're here.”

Her response: “F**k you, pops! First come first serve!” She then proceeded to pump her gas.

While she was doing that, the truck in front of her finished, pulled away, and another vehicle pulled in, facing towards her. It was big Ford F350 diesel and if it was like most of those I know, it was going to pump a lot of fuel, meaning it was going to take a while.

She finally finished, got the receipt printed out by the pump, and started to get into her car when she realized she wasn't going to be able to pull out until the F350 in front of her was done. She then has the gall to tell me that I have to move my truck so she can get out. By then there were a couple of other vehicles behind me, meaning backing up was not an option.

So I did the only thing I could do.


To say she was peeved would be an understatement. That she thought that I had to do anything for her, particularly after her actions and her expletive laden retorts and threats, had me wondering if she was plain crazy, storm crazy, or perhaps a little of both.

It took another ten minutes for the fellow in he F350 to finish filling his tanks before he finally backed out away from the pumps and left. With squealing tires and a flash of an upraised middle finger, she was off, too.

I was able to fill my two gallon gas can in less than a minute and I was then on my way as well.

It was just a mile or so from the turnoff from the state route on to the road to The Manse that I again came across the woman from Rhode Island. She was making the acquaintance of one of our local police officers who must have decided that she'd broken one traffic law or another.

As I drove by I waved. The officer who was standing beside her driver side window waved back and then continued talking to woman in the car. (I must confess at this point that I know most of the police officers in this town and this particular one was a neighbor of mine until recently.)

I have to wonder just how late she was to wherever it was she was in a hurry to get to?

All of this illustrates one universal truth: Karma is a bitch.