Josh on Gas Stations
There’s just something about gas stations. I don’t know if it’s the lazy unenthusiastic employees, the extra large drink cups with “super saver” programs, or the bad selection of snack foods that keeps bringing me back to them. Oh yeah. I remember now, it’s because I have a car and am forced to buy gas to keep driving this car, because eventually they run out of gas and stop working. That’s just a tip to you new car owners who wonder what that blinking light that looks like a gas can is for. And if you’re really new to this whole car thing, then a gas can looks like a large plastic container that you pour gas into. There, that’s settled. Now we can get back to talking about gas stations!
Think carefully about this concept of being forced to buy gas. If you have to buy something, then it makes sense that a killing could be made off selling other things. Rally’s really has it figured out with their slogan of “you gotta eat”, implying that you’re forced to buy food, so you might as well eat where the food is good. I think it makes sense, but that’s just me, maybe you look at eating as a chore, so you’d rather give it as little effort as possible, and you keep winding up buying those microwave pizzas for a dollar. But for my money you need to get at least into the medium range of frozen pizzas for it be at least edible. How does this relate to gas stations you wonder? I’m not sure exactly but I really wish I could get a double thin crust pepperoni made and delivered to my car while I’m pumping 20 bucks worth of gas into my car. Come on, you’re thinking about it right now aren’t you?
Gas stations just really don’t put a lot of overhead into advertising because they know that you have to come there anyway, but just think about what it would be like if anyone in the gas station world had any initiative whatsoever, and any drive at all. Well, unfortunately they probably wouldn’t work at a gas station. Gas station employees usually look like their lives are slowly being sucked out of them by the weird hours they work, and by the fact that their friends are all other unenthusiastic gas station employees. If they had any kind of sales skills whatsoever they could probably sell something else besides gas. It’s really pretty easy to sell gas. Here’s how it goes. You come up to the counter and speak to the gas lady (usually behind a fiberglass window). You tell her you want to buy some gas and this here Snickers bar. She says okay and you give her ten bucks. That’s usually how it goes. She doesn’t ask you if you want fries with that gas. She doesn’t ask you if you want to supersize your eight gallons. And she doesn’t even tell you to have a nice day. Have a good one. What’s that all about anyway? Good what? Good one lottery ticket probably. Just think what would happen if that nice gas lady said, “would you like to add some bowling shoes to your order today?” You just might end up buying some bowling shoes, and discovering a new sport. Life is good friend. Life is good.
On a side and disturbing note, gas stations are also a good place to find women with full moustaches, if you like that sort of thing. Am I trying to imply anything about the appearance of gas station employees? Oh no, imply nothing. I’m flat out telling you, most gas station employees look like they’ve given up on life, so they might as well work at a gas station. To be a gas station employee you have to be the type of person that doesn’t mind working that crucial 2:00 am to 10:00 am shift. In other words, you probably don’t really have a lot going on, and after a while those generic hot dogs that turn endlessly over a heat lamp start to look good to you. Listen people, everyone knows of the suspicious nutrition value of most hot dogs, but when they’re selling two for a dollar right next to stale doughnuts, you really have to consider what you’re getting yourself into. You really have to be a person on the go who doesn’t mind being sick by the time they get there.
Also, if you collect expired lottery tickets, you are in luck, as they can be found littering the grounds and overflowing the trash cans of gas stations everywhere that lottery tickets are sold.
There is not much more that is funny that can be said on the topic of gas stations, except that when you find one that is combined with some fast food chain like Arby’s, and is run by the same person that sells you your lottery tickets the odds are good that your food will be disturbingly unfresh. But look out, I’ve heard that if you’re rude to the employees, they’ll spit in your gas.
March 20, 2003