I avoid fueling my automobile, preferring to let TG fill that important office.
Ergo, I rarely visit gas stations.
However.
When we travel, inevitably there are fueling stops.
I always go inside to take stock of the snack and beverage offerings, believing it's the least I can do.
And because we usually travel with our pet, he gets out too ... to check his messages, et cetera.
The other day as we were on the Ohio-to-Tennessee leg of our return home, at a fuel island somewhere in Kentucky we offered Javier a drink of water. Like his own little private oasis.
I fetched his dish from the trunk and Erica stepped up to fill it from her personal monogrammed water container.
He was very grateful and I must say, so cute lapping up his water I just had to grab my camera.
Lately I've been doing a lot of shooting where I just hang my camera down near something on the ground or floor, and without even looking into the viewfinder, I take several pictures.
I like that unique perspective. Some of the shots remind me of Alfred Hitchcock movies, you know, with a small object looming in the foreground, dwarfing the larger object behind it.
(Think the teacup in Notorious. If you can get your mind's eye off Cary Grant, that is.)
But this time it really paid off because in addition to making his water dish look like a small swimming pool, I accidentally made Javier into a one-legged Chihuahua.
That's not something you see every day and I'm not sure you could plan it even if you actually were Alfred Hitchcock.
OK now all of the above was really just to set you up for this next part.
The day after the aforementioned trip, we embarked upon the last leg of our peregrinations. The one that would take us all the way home.
Erica left for Georgia. TG and I headed for South Carolina.
Audrey stayed in Knoxville, Tennessee, where she lives. Something tells me she was glad to see the gray car and the red car drive away.
Ten days on the road with one's family is ... well, ten days on the road with one's family. Good but at times requiring, shall we say, extra patience.
Anyway, before hitting I-75 South, Erica stopped to fill her tank.
She had just swiped her card and adjusted the nozzle and begun watching fifty dollars take wing and fly out of her wallet when a lady approached her.
The lady's male companion waited in a nearby car, smoking a cigarette.
Erica listened patiently while the lady politely asked for, not money, but gasoline.
As in, she wanted Erica to fill (or at least partially fill) the tank of the automobile in which the smoking man sat.
Erica declined to acquiesce with her request and later, she told me, "felt badly about it."
That's my girl, sweet as the day is long and with a guilt complex built right in.
To which I say, PUH-LEEEEEEZE.
PEOPLE. IF YOU CAN AFFORD CIGARETTES YOU CAN AFFORD GASOLINE.
I don't even know what a pack of smokes costs but I am sure the same amount of money would buy at least one gallon of gas, and that should be enough to drive you to work.
Yes, I said WORK.
Speaking of work, a few weeks ago TG was fueling his truck at another gas station. A man walked up and asked, not for money, but for work.
See, TG was wearing old paint-spattered clothes because he'd been painting some doors at our church. Perhaps giving the impression that he could maybe use a helper.
And I don't want to criticize the man who asked for work, because he did after all ask for work. Not for a ten-spot or a happy meal or a tank of gas.
Unfortunately TG had no work to give him, and told him so, and I'm sure he was very nice about it because he always is.
But a few minutes later as TG drove off down the road, he passed the man, who was on foot.
And as he walked, the man was smoking a cigarette.
PEOPLE. IF YOU DON'T HAVE A JOB, WHERE DO YOU GET THE MONEY TO BUY CIGARETTES?
Wait. Don't answer that. I'm not at all sure I want to know.