Doused in Gasoline

Yesterday was interesting. Or not. I stopped to fuel up my car. I didn't need much gas, so I held the handle down rather than using the locking mechanism. When finished, I released the handle so the gas would stop flowing only it didn't. But of course, I didn't know that yet.

Until I pulled the handle out and a perfect array of gasoline sprayed into the air. I remember it looking like a fountain, or the mist a whale shoots out of its blowhole. Yeah. It was pretty. And ugly. Gasoline immediately poured down into my adorable Nine West Navy-blue ballet-looking shoes. One of my favorite pairs!

I had to throw them out because as I stood there getting a gasoline shower, I could feel the liquid squishing between my toes. It rained down on my new shirt and jeans as I wrangled the uncontrollable hose. Finally, I contained it and alerted the station personnel so they could handle the spill.

It was an overcast day that looked like rain, so I got lucky and unlucky as I drove home. The rain started but I had to crack the windows to let the fumes out, so I didn't gag. Yet, the rain came in. What a mess! Twenty-four hours later and I still think I smell gasoline everywhere! I had my son sniff my hair and hands because I can't stop smelling it!

I feel like Pig-Pen from Charlie Brown. Like I'm walking around surrounded by a gasoline cloud. How's that for a visual? If I see you soon, I'm sure you will smell me coming. What's the point? There is none other than a needed rant and a little advice, keep your eye on that gas pump handle!