Polite

My husband is calm, rational, caring and as grounded as the beloved electronics that are his hobby. In other words, a true gentleman or mensch, if you prefer the Yiddish word.

I only know of one pet peeve that he has, and this pet peeve gathers strength with time. Years ago, my spouse finished filling the car with gas, got back in the driver’s seat and announced, “I will never buy gas at this station again.”

“Why not?” I inquired.

His reply, “The screen on the pump did not say ‘Thank You’ when my fill was complete. THAT IS ONLY ONE LITTLE LINE OF CODE!”

It took me a second to catch on. He’s a programmer and was referring to computer code. In my husband’s world, gas pumps as well as people should be well mannered.

I can always tell by the look on his face if a gas pump has been polite or not. I now also look for the final “one line of code” when I’m pumping my own gas. “My husband would not like you,” I’ve been known to mutter at an ungrateful gas pump.

The other day we drove into a car wash. The menu inside lighted up as various operations began……Stop, Rinse, Clean, Rinse, Protective Coat, Air Dry, Thank You.

“Look”, it says ‘Thank You!’ ” I said to my polite husband.

“It hasn’t actually lighted up yet,” he replied. “Wait and let’s see what happens.” We did, and the sign lighted up as we exited. However, I did notice that four tiny lights in the sign were burnt out. We may not be returning.

Shell Gas Pump

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2 thoughts on “Polite”

  1. Mary–Oh, you are so funny! Loved this one.
    evie
    ps: Gas stations I avoid are the one that have ads blaring in your ear–right at ear level when you’re pumpin’ away. “Today and only today, buy two muffins and get a third one absolutely FREEEEEEE!” I always put my hand over the speaker and vow to return bearing duct tape . . .

    Reply

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