A Blonde At A Self Service Petrol Station.

Worthy of the fabled candid camera...

At times I wonder at my sanity to choose one of the hottest days to do the weekly shop. Whichever direction I ventured forth, a drive of thirty minutes each way is a given. Today of all days it was over thirty degrees!

Güssing was my chosen destination in part because the shops I need to go to are within a five hundred meter radius and also it is on the way to Schützen where I popped in to quickly say my goodbyes to family travelling back home.

With the windows open, radio blaring Burgenlandish elevator music ( love it ) and the surrounding hills and meadows glowing in their best colours it was a reflective journey akin to soul candy...

The petrol gauge was toying with its red zone which caused me to stop at the petrol station next to the traffic circle. Remember, back in South Africa I had never once put my own petrol into a car as there were always attendants to do it. As easy as it is for those who've done it from word go, the more nerve-wracking it is for me, as most of the time Bob oversees the feeding of our chariot.

This petrol station is on the small side and I managed to drive up to the only free spot to the right hand side of the pump. Close enough for the oft times stubborn hose. I got out of the car, opened the cap with the key all the while aware of many an eye on my actions. Did I mention that next to this petrol station is the new Güssing barracks and at any time of the day young men in and out of uniform are walking about!

So far so good, I had a smile on my face for being so apt at this whole petrol ( in fact, we use diesel but the phrase going to put in petrol has stuck in the vocabulary ) affair. With everything aligned to start the pumping, I went to the actual pump, triple checked that I took the correct diesel one, got the hose and was instantly cut down a peg or two...the hose wouldn't reach and not by a long shot. Were these hoses always so short? It could have been ambient background noise yet I could have sworn that I heard a few smirks and laughs.

Nonchalantly, I returned the hose to the cradle, picked up the petrol cap, locked it back in place, got into the car and with a pretend sangfroid reversed a few meters in order to edge the chariot forward again on the left side of the petrol pump...oh well at least I can blame it on my newly done highlights and laugh it off...

Of course the cherry on the top was when I went into the little shop to pay. The gal behind the counter raised an inquiring eyebrow and had me say:

" Hi, the grey car with thirty euros worth of petrol. "

Her facial expression changed from bored to concerned instantly...

" Oh dear, you do know that you've just filled up with diesel? "

Biggi