Who Doesn't *Love* a Math Lesson from a Toothless Man at a Gas Pump?
Picture it.
6:45 am. Dark. Cold. Windy.
Snowpocalypse is on its way today.
My pantry and fridge are filled, but alas, my gas tank is not.
So I hit the BP, which I don't like cuz of the whole oil in the Gulf and dead animals issue, but I need some gas and it's close. Call me addicted to convenience and lenient in my convictions.
I'm shivering, watching the numbers rise and rise as my car guzzles up the fuel.
All of the sudden, I hear a voice.
Too damn cold to be pumping gas, ain't it?
I don't see a person. I don't even see another car.
WTH? The gas pump just spoke to me. Holy shit.
Hesitating, I reply, yes, yes it is. To the gas pump.
At least we're not pumping gas later today during the blizzard.
This gas pump watches the weather forecast too? My mind=officially blown.
After a long pause, I decide to look around the other side of the pump, hoping against hope I don't see a fairy or gnome or some shit, and I notice a man (thank the Lord!) in a crocheted beanie, God love him, with the tiniest blue, rusty car pulled up too far for me to see, grinning at me with a missing front tooth.
Whew. Not a talking gas pump after all. Sanity is still in check. (A totally debatable statement.)
Mr. Toothless Beanie proceeds to discuss how in Chicago, he heard they're getting like, 200 inches of snow.
No kidding, I say. 200 inches? *glancing at my car and telepathically transmitting a "be full NOW dammit" plea.*
Well, I heard it on the radio last night driving home from work. Some dude called in and said their weather forecast called for 200 inches of snow in Chicago. Can you imagine?
Yea, that'd be "inconvenient."
Yea, that's like,..... pause to calculate....5 feet of snow!
I look at Mr. Toothless Beanie, calculate in my own head, realize that I'm 5'2 inches, and think to myself, "holy shit! I'm over 200 inches tall! Take that Ford Modeling Agency! I *could* be on your runways after all!"
Thank you, Mr. Toothless Beanie Math Genius, for my early morning math lesson.
Dear Chicago, sorry about your impending 200 inches of snow. But rest assured, it's only like, 5 feet, so you'll be thawed out by spring.
6:45 am. Dark. Cold. Windy.
Snowpocalypse is on its way today.
My pantry and fridge are filled, but alas, my gas tank is not.
So I hit the BP, which I don't like cuz of the whole oil in the Gulf and dead animals issue, but I need some gas and it's close. Call me addicted to convenience and lenient in my convictions.
I'm shivering, watching the numbers rise and rise as my car guzzles up the fuel.
All of the sudden, I hear a voice.
Too damn cold to be pumping gas, ain't it?
I don't see a person. I don't even see another car.
WTH? The gas pump just spoke to me. Holy shit.
Hesitating, I reply, yes, yes it is. To the gas pump.
At least we're not pumping gas later today during the blizzard.
This gas pump watches the weather forecast too? My mind=officially blown.
After a long pause, I decide to look around the other side of the pump, hoping against hope I don't see a fairy or gnome or some shit, and I notice a man (thank the Lord!) in a crocheted beanie, God love him, with the tiniest blue, rusty car pulled up too far for me to see, grinning at me with a missing front tooth.
Whew. Not a talking gas pump after all. Sanity is still in check. (A totally debatable statement.)
Mr. Toothless Beanie proceeds to discuss how in Chicago, he heard they're getting like, 200 inches of snow.
No kidding, I say. 200 inches? *glancing at my car and telepathically transmitting a "be full NOW dammit" plea.*
Well, I heard it on the radio last night driving home from work. Some dude called in and said their weather forecast called for 200 inches of snow in Chicago. Can you imagine?
Yea, that'd be "inconvenient."
Yea, that's like,..... pause to calculate....5 feet of snow!
I look at Mr. Toothless Beanie, calculate in my own head, realize that I'm 5'2 inches, and think to myself, "holy shit! I'm over 200 inches tall! Take that Ford Modeling Agency! I *could* be on your runways after all!"
Thank you, Mr. Toothless Beanie Math Genius, for my early morning math lesson.
Dear Chicago, sorry about your impending 200 inches of snow. But rest assured, it's only like, 5 feet, so you'll be thawed out by spring.
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| Michigan Avenue, 2011 |
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8 Comment:
I was really hoping it was a talking gas pump. Morning ruined.
I really hate when random people talk to me at the gas pump. I don't mean to be bitchy or anything, but I have to be nice to people all day at work and I would rather pump my gas in peace.
I thought it was some guy from inside talking through speakers. That pales in comparison to a Toothless Good Will Hunting in a Beanie.
[Let's try that again, shall we? Perhaps correctly this time.]
I'm here from The Bloggess, so good work with the post title! I just wanted to say that you are addicted to convenience and lenient in your convictions, since you specifically asked your readers to and no one had bothered yet. :-)
LOL!! Oh how I love how you write!
oh my, that truly had me LOL!
Hehehehe... love "My mind=officially blown".
I think 200 inches of snoe would also be mind blowing. But less socially awkward.
Maybe.
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