Full service

Last night we went to the gas station to fill up our cousins car. Exciting, I know, but I wanted to tell you that down here, the general population gets treated to full service gas stations. No one pumps their own gas as it is done for them. Those of us that are old enough to remember sometimes miss little things like that. They wash your windshield, check your oil if you request it. Most here, however, feel the need to get out of the car to supervise the transaction. Believe it or not, not everyone in the world is honest! Several here have had bad experiences with being duped by the station attendants; being told they owed xx amount but then noticing they didn’t get as much gas as they should have. I’m not sure which side of the road I’m on yet- get out and supervise, or hope they don’t cheat me. For the foreseeable future, however, since my husband and I go most everywhere together, and are still being chauffeured, it won’t be a factor. I’ll let you know in a future post. (No, we haven’t been able to get our drivers licenses yet because of the other paperwork that needs to happen first. And that’s a whole other story for another day.)