Stinky Road Trip

If you read my last post you'll know I'm Ohio bound on the highway right now. We just stopped for gas at a rural station just south of Berea Kentucky. Angie went in to use the restroom and I, started pumping the gas. The smell of gas fumes has always bothered me so I make it my practice to start the pump and then walk far enough away that I don't smell the fumes.

I hate it when I end up at a pump that has the little flap of metal removed that keeps the handle engaged. Fortunately this station still had the device attached.

I started the filling the tank and noticed how quickly at a buck 94.9 the numbers rolled. Then they stopped. I started it again and it stopped again, repeatedly. It seemed to know when I was just out of the smelly zone and then it would click off. I actually looked around to see if someone was playing a trick on me. This went on for about five minutes when I finally decided to just stand there and hold the silly thing.

The moment I gripped and squeezed the pump handle I heard a pop, a whooshing sound and felt my leg get wet. The breakaway joint on the gas pump had popped open, briefly soaking my leg with regular unleaded and and left me holding the handle and smelling like a refinery. Gas pump 1, Dan 0.

We are now back in the car headed down the highway breathing gas fumes and toothpaste with an intensity that may make me pull over and throw my pants away. The toothpaste got there in an attempt to wash out the gas smell. Toothpaste was the closest thing to soap I could find. It doesn't work. ¶ 12:00 PM